Love Changes Things
by jonnilyne
Summary: What if the Beast hadn't forced Belle to stay? What if it was her choice? What if she stayed to escape her own tragic fate? My spin on the classic story.
1. Chapter 1

For the past week, I have had the same dream.

I am standing at the back of the town church – this is when I know I am dreaming, because I am to be wed in another town, at a large estate. Perhaps, since I have never seen this place, my subconscious is substituting it for a place I know. Violins begin to play and I walk silently down an aisle, surrounded by pews that hold the entire town. I vaguely wonder why they are all here; they have never cared much for me in the past. I walk alone; my father is surely passed out somewhere, inebriated.

I reach the altar and face the man I have to marry. He grins at me and my stomach begins to churn; I am merely a prize to him – another trophy to hang on his wall. The minister speaks, and although I refuse to say anything, to make any vows, it is only a moment before the aged man delivers my sentence in a clear voice:

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

I woke up covered in sweat, my panting barely covering up the hammering of my heart in my chest. Through my window I could see that it was still dark, and I was relieved. I still had a few hours before my fiancé – I shuddered at the thought – and I had to leave for the town across the forest – the town where my free will would die at the altar next to that man. I sighed, climbing out of bed and peeling off my nightgown. I hoped that after a warm bath, I might feel a little better, though I doubted it.

I crossed into the den area of my father's house and lit a fire in the fireplace. Soon, I had several pails of water heating over the fire. I carefully transported them to the porcelain tub in the washroom and filled it up halfway. Gently, I lowered myself into the tub, letting the water rise up to my chin. The heat from the water began to relax my tense muscles, and I calmed down bit by bit. Closing my eyes, I allowed my mind to wander to the events of this past week that had led me to my betrothal….

It had been last Friday night. My father was sitting in his favorite armchair, unusually sober for the late hour. I stifled a yawn, closing the book I was reading.

"It's late, Papa," I said softly. "I think I'll turn in." I turned, preparing to head to my bedroom when he stopped me.

"Wait, Belle," he said. I stood, paralyzed by the sound of his voice. It had been so long – a year perhaps – since I had heard him speak with such clarity. Generally his voice was slurred, tainted by the alcohol he loved so much. I spun around to face him, shock painting my face. If he noticed the surprise, he ignored it.

"Sit down, dear," he began again. "I have something we must discuss." Taking my seat, I looked at his face. My father wasn't very old, not even forty yet, but his face was worn from suffering and liquor. In this moment, however, his face set with determination, I could see him as he had been ten years ago – a serious, hard-working man. Before tragedy ruined my father's life, he had been a trusted and important man in our small town. He was a jack of all trades, really, and people came to him with a myriad of problems – he was the local handyman, and made quite a living from it. He had this house built for my mother on her 27th birthday, and it was still one of the largest and most furnished houses in the town. He had provided so well for his family that, despite the fact he had made almost no money in the past ten years, we were still able to live comfortably.

My father couldn't protect his reputation, however. He had become the town drunk, and people had stopped coming by with broken clocks and farming questions years ago.

"Belle," he declared, breaking me from my reverie, "you're not a child any longer. Your eighteenth birthday has come and passed. You're old enough to – well, to marry." I blanched at his words. I wasn't opposed to marriage in any way, but there was no one in the town I would consider marrying for even a moment.

"You're smart, hard-working, determined," he continued. "You'll make someone a very good wife. Any man would be happy to marry you." I scoffed, and he glared at me. He had to realize the absurdity of his words. If being the town drunk's daughter didn't make me enough of a pariah, my personality certainly did. I was smart, like my father had said, but women weren't supposed to be smart or think for themselves. People stared when they saw me in the small library our town housed.

I never socialized, never dolled myself up in frilly dresses or ridiculous makeup and flaunted my curves around town like so many of the other girls. I wasn't eager to make myself a housewife, to have to submit to a man who couldn't care less what I dreamed of doing with my life. My oddities might have been forgiven if my father had still been a successful and respectable handyman, but his alcoholism had ruined any chance I had at acceptance; oddly enough, I found that I didn't mind either way. I preferred to keep to myself; I encountered much less stupidity that way.

My father's eyes bore into mine. "You're so beautiful, Belle," he said, and I thought I saw tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. "You look just like your mother." At his words, a few tears threatened to brim over in my own eyes; my mother hadn't been mentioned in the house for years. After her passing, I learned quickly not to ask my father about her; to mention him would send him straight to the bottom of a bottle.

"Papa, be that as it may, there is no one in this town who would ever marry me," I insisted. "I'm too…odd." It stung to call myself that; I didn't think it was odd that I thought for myself and dreamed of a much bigger life than this town could offer me. My father was already shaking his head.

"You are not odd," he said sternly. "You're spirited, just like your mother. And you're wrong," he added quietly. He squirmed in his seat, and his eyes flickered to a bottle on the end table. I had to try not to smile; I imagined he wished he had a little help with whatever speech he was about to make. He took in a deep breath, steadied himself, and went on.

"Someone does want to marry you," he shot out quickly. I gaped at him in disbelief, shaking my head. He just stared at me, worry evident on his face. I waited for him to go on, but then I realized that he was waiting, gauging my reaction.

"Me?" I choked out. My head began to spin, all of the men I knew from town blurring in front of my eyes. "Who?" I demanded. "Who wants to marry me?"

At that moment, the front door slammed open. A gust of cold wind spun into the house, making me shiver.

"I do," said a man who had appeared in the doorway. The triumphant arrogance in his voice made my heart sink. His long black hair was pulled neatly back into a ponytail, giving me a full view of his face. His cold, icy blue eyes were dancing with certainty on his handsome face. He leaned against the door frame, his bulging arms crossed over his massive chest. He shot me his trademark cat that ate the canary grin, clearly under the impression that I would simper under his good looks.

"Gaston," I said breathlessly. He mistook my tone for one of endearment rather than shock and his grin widened. Stunned, I turned to look at my father; his face was resigned.

I racked my brain to think back to a time when Gaston and I had engaged in a real conversation, but I drew a blank. However, I didn't need to have spoken directly to him to know that he was the last person I would ever want to marry. He spent his time hunting, or at the tavern, showing off his trophies and rippling muscles. Although he was extremely handsome, his beauty masked his inner atrocities.

He cruelly killed wildlife from the forest that bordered our town, often leaving the meat to rot and plastering their heads on the tavern walls. He often got drunk and picked fights with smaller men at the tavern, humiliating them and sometimes even leaving lasting physical damage. I didn't often listen to town gossip, but it was impossible not to hear the shrill girls exclaiming over how he had bedded them; it made me nauseous. I saw him several times a week when I had to go pry my father away from a barstool at the tavern. We never spoke, but I would have to be blind to miss the way he looked me over every night – it was the same look I saw people use at the butcher's before purchasing their meat.

"That's right, it's me," he said with a grin and a wink. "The way I see it, you and I are the perfect pair. You're the best looking girl in town, and I'm the best looking person in France. Our sons will be strapping young men." My brain shouted at me to protest, to stop this before he went any further, but I couldn't do anything but listen, dumbfounded. "I can picture it now," he went on. "Our boys will play on the floor with the dogs while you cook the buck I just killed and skinned." He smiled and looked into the air, envisioning the scene he had concocted. I shuddered as I tried to imagine it, too.

"So Belle," Gaston declared loudly. "What'll it be? Will you marry me?" I was floored and slightly insulted by his impersonal, arrogant proposal. I opened my mouth to puncture his inflated ego, but my father's voice sounded before I could speak.

"Of course she will!" he announced with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. A small whimper escaped my lips as my father's betrayal washed over me. Gaston bounded into the house, grabbed my father's hand, and pumped it up and down, beaming.

"Excellent, Maurice!" Gaston shouted, shooting me a wink that made my skin crawl. My mouth shot open to protest, but my throat had suddenly become so dry that I couldn't make a noise. My head began to spin as Gaston and my father chattered cheerfully about the wedding. I clutched my stomach when a date was mentioned.

"Wait," I said, and they both stared at me. "That's next week." Gaston let out a roar of laughter.

"My dear Belle, I can't marry you any faster than that!" Gaston exclaimed, taking my hand in his. "We'll marry next week, at my parent's house in Roux. Then we'll come back here and start trying for a family." He shot me another roguish wink and bile rose up to my throat.

"Tell your parents to build me a house next to their wine cellar!" my father joked, but the jibe was too close to the truth for me to find humorous. Was my father encouraging this marriage because of Gaston's money? I shook my head slightly, unwilling to believe that.

Gaston shook my father's hand a few more times before kissing me roughly on the cheek and leaving with a slam of the door. I ran across the den, lifted the window, and was violently sick. I kept my head hanging out of the window, eyes clamped shut, letting the cool October air calm me down. I felt a hand on my back and stood up, turning and shooting my father a desperate look.

"Papa, how could you?" I asked, full of sorrow. "Belle, can't you just trust that I have your best interest at heart?"

"My best interest!" I said scornfully. "My best interest has nothing to do with this! I don't want to marry Gaston! I can barely stand to be around him. I'll be miserable my whole life, Papa! He's rude, arrogant, and cruel."

"You might be a good influence on him," my father said, trying to reason with me. "Give the man a chance! You've hardly even spoken to him."

"And I'm supposed to marry him? He knows nothing about me, my hopes, my dreams…" I trailed off, fighting back tears.

"Then let him get to know you, and you get to know him! You might find he's not that bad."

"I'm not marrying him," I said loudly, shaking my head. My father glared at me with intensity I had never seen on his face.

"I am your father!" he shouted, his voice rumbling. "You will marry whomever I say you'll marry!" At that, I lost control. Tears flooded down my face and my chest shook violently as sobs racked my body. My father's fury dissipated instantly.

"Belle, please," my father pleaded. "Gaston has influence in town. He's young, powerful, respected. His family is extremely wealthy. With Gaston, you will want for nothing. Gaston can give you everything."

Papa claimed to have my best interest at heart. Couldn't he see that he was wrong, though? Gaston could give me material goods, but he could never give me happiness.

"I won't be happy," I said softly, my resistance fading. My father sighed in relief.

"If you wouldn't be so stubborn, you might be able to find happiness with him," he said with a slight chuckle. If only it were that simple. I stood up silently.

"I'll marry him, if that is what you wish, Papa," I said flatly. He sighed in relief.

"It won't be as bad as you think, Belle. I promise. Marriage brings out things in people they never knew were there. Gaston will be a good husband." Papa smiled at me, but I couldn't force my muscles up to return even a grimace. Slowly, I began to stagger back to my room. When Papa thought I wasn't looking, I stole a glance in time to see him down half of the bottle of whiskey in one gulp.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I thought I would go ahead and post again today, since I had this written! I would love reviews; feel free to be brutally honest! (:  
**Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast!

* * *

Once I was in my room, I sought solace from my favorite possessions: my books. I picked up the story of King Arthur, but put it back down immediately. I'd never have adventures of my own now. My hand hovered over _Romeo and Juliet_. Even though it was a tragedy, Romeo and Juliet experienced more love than I ever would with Gaston. I flew to my bed, finally giving myself completely over to tears.

I had never had any silly notions about my life. I knew I would never be a grand adventurer or have love worth dying for. I did, however, long for true love – someone I could be myself around, someone who would listen to my dreams and never squash my free will. I wanted to grow old with someone, to laugh and cry right along with them. Now, I would never have even that. Gaston only wanted to marry me because he thought I was beautiful. I wasn't a person to him; I was a trophy – a prize to show off. He didn't care about me in the slightest, let alone love me.

Sobs racked through me as I imagined slaving away in a kitchen, cooking something he had killed in the forest while he drank and brawled at the tavern. I shuddered when I thought about his "family" remark – I would have to lie with him, and any children we had would be raised to be exactly like him; the boys would hunt and inherit his ego, the girls would be taught to look pretty and keep their opinions to themselves – or not have them at all. Was someone like Gaston even capable of love? Somehow, I doubted it.

In one evening, Gaston had taken everything from me. I turned over, pulled the ribbon from my raven hair and shook it loose. I curled up into a ball, willing myself to sleep; surely my dreams would be an escape from my now grim reality. But Gaston took even that from me, for that night was the first time I had the nightmare.

The next evening, Gaston escorted me to the tavern where he announced our engagement. There was a split second of silence, brought on by Gaston's strange choice for a bride, no doubt, before everyone erupted into cheers. Several girls shot me envious looks while the men clapped Gaston on the back. One man congratulated Gaston on such a "beautiful wife," and Gaston promptly hit the man square in the jaw. The other men roared with laughter, but I squealed and pounded on his arm.

"Gaston!" I shouted. "What is the matter with you?" Gaston shot daggers at me.

"He was being cheeky," he said loudly, sounding happy enough, but he added a hiss just for me. "Do not question me," he spat. I had to struggle to maintain my composure. What kind of a beast was I being forced to marry? I knelt down next to the man; his lip had bust and began to bleed. I pulled a handkerchief from inside my dress and dabbed at his cut.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, giving the man a small smile.

He looked too startled to appear grateful. "Thanks," he said softly, gingerly touching his bleeding lip. I helped the man up and glanced up at Gaston, who was too busy drinking ale to notice.

After about an hour of drinks, cheers, and congratulations, I tapped lightly on Gaston's arm.

"I'm tired," I called over the loud noise.

"You can walk yourself home," he said, barely taking his eyes off of the tavern girl pouring drinks to look at me. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the building. It was cold outside; October had died away into November, and there was an early chill in the air. I took it as a bad omen and laughed bitterly. I thought of Gaston punching that poor man and shivered. I was betrothed to a monster. In less than a week, he would be my husband.

* * *

I snapped up in the tub. Rays of light were shining through the window, and the water was stone cold; I had fallen asleep. Cursing myself, I rushed to scrub my body clean and wash my hair. Out of the tub, I quickly braided my black hair and slipped into a plain blue dress. I turned to the mirror in my room and surveyed myself.

'I look awful,' was my first thought. My chocolate brown eyes seemed duller, perhaps because they were lined with dark circles from a week of little sleep. My face was slightly thinner; every time I had tried to eat this week my food came right back up. I wrung my hands nervously and began to pace the floor. Maybe it was good that I looked worn out; maybe Gaston would change his mind about marrying me.

The house was quiet without my father; it had been my idea that he go on a day ahead of time. I suggested he go on and get acquainted with Gaston's parents so that Gaston and I could have time alone together on our ride to Roux. Gaston and Papa had been thrilled, but really I thought my chances of not having to talk were better if only Gaston were there. If my father made the trip with us, he was sure to nag me if I was silent.

The trip wasn't very long, only about nine hours by horse. There was a road that led to Roux that avoided the neighboring forest, but Gaston had decided we would take a shortcut through the edge of it. My father went this way, and he would have had an even shorter trip since he wasn't weighed down by an extra passenger.

I was glad to not have to pack anything; there would be a dress waiting for me at my future in-laws' house. We would be married tomorrow afternoon and then going on a brief honeymoon – I shivered at the thought – at a hunting lodge owned by Gaston's father at the edge of Roux. Roux was far bigger than my little hometown, and Gaston's family owned most of it. 'Wonderful,' I thought bitterly. 'More people that think Gaston will make a splendid husband.'

I allowed myself to cry my final tears while I waited for Gaston to arrive; only a few leaked out, and I began to think I had cried myself out throughout the week. Finally there was a bang on the front door before it was flung open and I was forced to face my future husband.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who reviewed; I really love them! Please continue to review - be brutal! I plan on updating once or twice a week; no hiatuses I promise! I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed/will enjoy writing it! (:**

Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, although that would be awesome; I'd hump the crap out of the beast.

* * *

Gaston was beaming at me, though his face fell slightly when he saw me.

"You don't look well," he said with a small frown.

"I'm just tired," I said with a weak smile - of course he had noticed my appearance immediately. He brightened up quickly.

"Be sure to get plenty of rest tonight," he warned with a grin. "You'll need it for tomorrow night." He gave me a malicious grin and sauntered over to me. "Of course," he went on. "Why wait?" His voice lowered dangerously and my heart stopped when I saw the look on his face. He put his hands on my hips as I stood there, frozen with fear. He bent down and pressed his lips roughly against mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me tightly against him. I wasn't sure how to react, even if I had wanted to.

A piece of my heart broke; Gaston was taking my first kiss, just as he would take everything else. Above the sadness, however, was a strange feeling: a burning wave of fury. I clenched my fists and became as still as stone; I would not give Gaston the satisfaction of my compliance. I would marry him, but I would not be happy or act like I was. Gaston must have mistaken my lack of participation as a lack of knowledge, because he pulled away with a roar of laughter.

"There will be time for that," he said, slapping my behind. I turned scarlet with embarrassment and rage. "Come on, Belle," Gaston said, taking my hand. I allowed myself to be led out of my house, knowing that the next time I was here I would be married to Gaston. It took me a moment, once we were outside, to notice that there was only one horse. I groaned.

"I thought you were bringing two horses," I complained. Gaston laughed again; I considered hitting him.

"I thought we could be cozy on just one horse," he said, wiggling his eyebrow at me. I resisted the urge to groan again. I let him help me onto the horse, trying to ignore how his hands lingered in certain places. He swung himself easily onto the horse behind me. I was thankful he was behind me; this way I wouldn't have to wrap my arms around him to keep from sliding off. I didn't enjoy the way he pressed himself against my backside, but I could tune him out slightly if I shut my eyes tightly. He grabbed ahold of the reins, his arms resting on my thighs, and we began to trot through the town.

My house being on the edge of town, it only took a few minutes for us to reach the forest. Gaston wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Don't be frightened," he said smugly. "I'll protect you." I rolled my eyes, thankful he couldn't see me.

"Thank you," I said sarcastically, but Gaston didn't seem to catch my tone. We rode in silence for a while, the chirping of birds the only noise besides the thud of the horse's hooves. Despite my desire to be as far away from him as possible, I found myself nodding off, leaning against Gaston's chest. Suddenly, his booming voice shook me awake.

"Belle, your apparent hesitation to marry me has not gone unnoticed," he announced grandly. "I have tried all week to figure out what might be causing your reluctance." I allowed myself a snort; somehow I doubted that the fact that I disgusted him had crossed his mind. "I have finally figured out where your doubt is coming from," he concluded. He paused, for dramatic effect, no doubt, and I waited in silence, slightly curious.

"You don't think you deserve me," he said finally, with a flare of triumph. "And I can understand why you might think that, but dear, you really shouldn't. I mean, you and I are the two most attractive people in our town. It only makes sense that we would end up together; we each deserve the best. I know you're intimidated by my good looks – I mean really, who wouldn't be – but…" I shut my eyes, willing myself to shut him out. How on earth could I be stuck with this pompous, arrogant, idiotic…man? This past week with him had exhausted me, but I didn't dare to sleep – I was terrified of having the nightmare again. I settled on opening my eyes and looking at the beauty of the forest around me. Birds flittered around above us, singing happy songs; I envied them. How I wished I could be a bird and simply fly away from my harsh reality. Squirrels zipped through the forest floor, making me grin.

My amusement was short lived, however, as a conversation I had had with my father shortly before his departure drifted to the front of my mind….

* * *

"Papa, please," I had said quietly in desperation. "Please don't make me do this." I was shamed at the fact that my father had driven me to begging, but this was my last chance. Papa's glare quickly extinguished the last of my hope.

"Belle, I don't know what is wrong with you!" he snapped. "This is the best thing that could have happened to you, and you want to throw it away!"

"But Papa –"

"I don't want to hear it!" he shouted, slamming his fist on the kitchen table. "This is what is best for us – you – and you are going to marry him!" I tried to ignore the fact that he had said it was best for "us" and hung my head in despair. Papa took that as a sign of my final resignation.

"After all," he continued with a scoff. "You can't expect to have any other offers in the future. If you pass this up, that might be it!" He laughed as if it was a joke, but his words stabbed me. Since he passed out with a bottle of whiskey in his hand shortly afterwards, I tried to write his jab off as drunken stupidity.

Deep down, though, I was afraid that my father was right. Should I be happy at my chance to be married? I didn't expect that I would have another chance at it, just as Papa had said. I quickly pushed that thought from my mind. A high-status marriage wasn't worth sacrificing my happiness over. I was in the right here; I knew I was.

"Belle?" Gaston inquired, nudging me slightly.

"Yes?" I replied, torn unwillingly away from my thoughts.

"I asked whether you have eaten bear before," he said, sounding annoyed.

"No," I said curiously. "Why would you kill a bear when there are plenty of deer for food?" I heard Gaston scoff.

"Bear is more fun to hunt!" he said gleefully. "They can put up more of a fight, and they make fearsome trophies." I grimaced, imagining Gaston killing a mother bear, trying to protect her cubs. I suddenly felt nauseous, but Gaston didn't notice. "And speaking of trophies," he continued. "The hunting lodge in Roux is full of them, most of which I killed," he said proudly. "And of course," he said, his voice dropping. "There is one trophy in particular I think you'll enjoy." His hand clenched my leg and I rolled my eyes. I let out a tiny giggle, hoping to appease him, and it seemed to work; his hand loosened its grip.

"Gaston," I simpered. "Is it all right if I nap? I'm dreadfully tired."

"Of course, Belle," he said, his voice full of a grin. "I wouldn't want you to be tired tomorrow." I ignored his raucous laughter and leaned back slightly, closing my eyes. I drifted over time; although I wasn't able to fall into a deep sleep, I was thankful to not have to hear Gaston's voice any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Here's the next chapter! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story! Thanks to my beta reader (I LOVE YOU!). I hope everyone continues to enjoy this story! (:

* * *

"Belle!" Gaston's roaring voice woke me. Groggily, I looked around; the sun had already set and I could see that we were stopped in front of a large house. "We're here," he said, hopping off the horse and sauntering towards the estate. I slowly managed to slide myself down from the animal; I gave it a gentle pet on the nose before trudging after Gaston. Two people with lanterns exited the house, coming to meet us: Gaston's parents. Once I drew closer, I could see that Gaston was an exact replica of his father, though his father's hair held a few streaks of silver. His mother was a lovely woman who drew Gaston into a hug and kissed his cheeks.

"My dear son," she exclaimed. "We are so happy you're home!"

"And this must be Belle," his father said, turning to me. He took my hand, kissed it, and gave me a smile that made my skin crawl; clearly, that much was genetic.

His mother gathered me into her arms, kissing my cheeks as well. "You are every bit as lovely as Gaston said!" I managed to plaster a smile onto my face.

"Come inside," his father boomed, ushering us into the door. The foyer was huge, a giant chandelier gracing the ceiling. A marble staircase led upstairs to the right. I found myself impressed in spite of myself.

"Tell me, dear Belle," Gaston's mother said once the front door had been shut. "When is your father coming?" It took a moment for her question to process in my brain.

"Whatever do you mean?" I finally managed to spit out. I glanced at Gaston, whose face mimicked my confusion.

"Your father hasn't arrived yet," his mother said slowly. I gasped and clapped my hand over my mouth. I imagined my father, drunk, wandering around the forest on a horse that he hadn't fed or watered in a day. I turned to Gaston.

"We have to go look for him," I said quickly. Gaston laughed.

"Don't be silly," he retorted. "It's dark, and the forest is a dangerous place. Besides, are you really surprised that he got lost? That man couldn't find himself out of the bottom of a mug of beer." Gaston's father joined him in his laughter, and I saw a flash of a glare on his mother's face that quickly disappeared. Fury made my blood boil under my skin.

"Don't you dare speak about my father that way," I said through clenched teeth. "If you think I'm not going after my father, you're an idiot." My words hung in the air. Gaston's face turned from laughter to shock to rage. Before I could do anything, he had slapped me hard on the face. To my surprise, neither of his parents did anything; I knew then it had to be a common occurrence. His father seemed passive, with a look of approval on his face, and his mother's beautiful face was twisted in agony; it was like looking into a mirror. I tried to remain furious, but rebel tears escaped my eyes.

"I will not be spoken to like that!" he roared, his red face inches from mine. "Your father is a drunk who deserves whatever fate he finds in those woods," he went on. I opened my mouth to respond, but he struck me again; this time, I stumbled backwards. Gaston turned on his heel and sped down a hallway, his father close behind him. I heard a door slam, and I gingerly touched my face. I could feel it beginning to bruise. His mother rushed over to me.

"Come along, dear," she said as I gave in to sobs. Blindly, I followed her lead up the stairs and into a bedroom. She sat me down on the bed and held me as sorrow overtook me.

"He just has a bit of a temper," she said, and my head shot up, shock covering my face. In what way was what he had done acceptable? Was I doomed to become this woman, to excuse my husband's blows and the bruises on my face? She looked at me with pity. "Don't worry, dear, we'll find a way to cover it up for the wedding tomorrow." I let out a disgusted snort and began to wipe away my tears. Just as I had suspected, I seemed to be the only person to see Gaston for what he was.

"I can't marry him," I whispered, mortified, before I could stop myself. I hoped she wouldn't be upset that I was insulting her son.

"I was once in a position much like yours," she recalled, looking away.

"What happened?" I asked, curious despite myself.

"I was a miller's daughter," she breathed. "My family was poor beyond belief. I had been blessed – or cursed, as I've come to see it – with beauty. My husband and I met in passing one day at the market; he couldn't keep his eyes off of me. He showed up the next day to ask for my hand. My parents were thrilled – and so was I. Finally, I was going to have nice things. Neither I nor my parents would ever want for anything ever again. I had grand delusions of a happy marriage, full of love, and I was ecstatic to be able to help my family out. I was blissfully happy, until the night after we were married. I rebuked him for drinking too much, and he…" she trailed off, a look of horror etched on her face. "I grew used to it, after a time, but when I became pregnant I began to fear for my child. When he was born, I lost all hope, for I knew that my son would be raised to do the same things." She gazed at me intensely.

"Why don't you leave?" I breathed, thankful that my embarrassing waterworks had stopped.

"I cannot. I have nowhere to go, no family left, nothing. No, I sealed my fate the day I said my vows." She gave me a strange look – envy, perhaps? – before continuing. "You, however, still have a chance."

"Your father may want you to marry my son, but you must not do it. I do not wish the life I have had upon anyone. All of my hopes and dreams have been crushed; don't lose yours, too."

She slipped something hard and cold into my hand; I looked down and saw a small silver key.

"Make the right choice," she said simply before turning and leaving me alone in the room.

Two hours later, when I was sure Gaston had to be asleep, I crept quietly out of my room. Tiptoeing, I made my way down the staircase of the now darkened foyer, the key clutched tightly in my hand. I came to the front door and turned the knob; just as I suspected, the door was locked tight. My hand shook slightly as I stuck the key into the hole and turned it. With a click, the door unlocked. I took care not to make noise in my excitement as I opened the wide wooden door. I felt a surge of gratitude and pity for Gaston's mother; though she could not save herself, she was rescuing me from that terrible fate. The cold November air stung my cheeks and flipped my braid around on my back. I was suddenly grateful for a bit of Gaston's cruelty; his horse was not secured in a warm stable, but was still tethered to a post on the front lawn. Guilt filled me at the idea of riding the horse again when it had not been fed or watered, but I would simple have to find something for it once I found Papa – I had no time to spare now. I clambered onto the horse's back unsteadily. I had ridden alone a few times, but not enough to feel truly comfortable. I gathered the reins in my hand and dug my heels into the animal's side; with a whinny, he shot off towards the forest.

As we raced onwards, breaking through the trees, I considered my plan. Surely the forest wouldn't take too long to cover. I had no idea how large it was, but Papa couldn't have gone too far in. I would find Papa, and then we would go away – somewhere we could start over, where no one knew us and I would never have to see Gaston again. We could find happiness somewhere that our past didn't haunt us.

I found the path Gaston and I had taken in the forest; surely Papa would have taken it as well. I veered off of it slightly, hoping to see a tracks or something that would let me know he had been here. Once off the path, I found that I couldn't tell any difference between one spot in the forest and another. The trees above me grew denser, allowing for less moonlight to light my way. Everything around me looked exactly the same; I couldn't tell where I was going from where I had been, and suddenly I realized that the path was gone. Panic crept through my veins, but I struggled to remain calm. I simply had to pick a direction and walk straight that way. I nudged the horse on again, this time at a slower pace.

Time passed in strange lurches. I didn't know if it had been moments or hours, but at some point we came across a small river. I stopped and dismounted, allowing the horse to drink some water and eat some of the dying grass nearby. I knelt down to drink a few handfuls of water. My stomach growled, and I realized I hadn't eaten – tonight, or in days. Gaston's parents must have had food waiting, but Gaston's outburst had left it forgotten. I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles. As I walked towards the horse, preparing to sling myself back on, I noticed something at my feet. I gasped and crouched down; I instantly recognized the hoof prints that marked the ground. They went into the river. Ignoring the cold, I waded through the knee-high water, praying silently. To my elation, the prints reappeared on the other side. Now, however, I noticed more tracks. My brow furrowed. What were dogs doing way out here? I pushed that thought aside and ran back to the horse. In no time, we were flying through the forest. I would stop occasionally to check that we were still following the tracks.

Ahead of us, I could see a small clearing; the moon illuminated the small patch eerily. Then I looked at the ground in the clearing, and I gasped sharply. There was something lying there, blood pooled around it. I warily dismounted and approached it. My stomach churned when I realized what it was – my father's horse. Its eyes were wide open, terror frozen on its face. Its throat was ripped open, as was its belly; it was missing most of its meat. I fell to the ground, thankful that I had nothing in my stomach to throw up.

"Not dogs," I moaned, realization striking me. "Wolves." Wolves had attacked my father. My mind reeled. If the horse was here, dead…maybe Papa had gotten away while the wolves ate it. I stood up shakily, and sure enough I could see boot prints at the edge of the clearing. I rushed back to my horse and set off again, daring to hope that my Papa was alive. At the edge of my vision was what looked like a wall. My brow furrowed; what kind of wall would be found in a forest? As we raced towards it, I realized it was a gate – and a giant mansion towered behind it.

My face lit up in a brilliant smile. Papa had come this way on foot and come across the mansion. He must be taking refuge in there! I let out a heavy sigh of relief and nudged my horse on faster. At the gate, I hopped down and led the horse by the reins. The heavy iron gate was rusted and took me several tries to push open. I walked inside and shut the gate after myself. I dashed across the sweeping lawn to the wooden doorway at the entrance of the mansion. I didn't bother tying my horse up; the gate was closed, and there was a pond at the edge of the lawn he could drink from. I beat on the door, hoping I was loud enough to wake up the inhabitants of the mansion. I waited, heart beating out of my chest, until suddenly the door creaked open.

In the doorway, stifling a yawn, was a portly man. He was dressed impeccably, despite the late hour. Moonlight gleamed off of a large golden pocket watch that hung on his chest. He gaped at me for a moment before stammering a greeting.

"Good evening – I mean morning – mademoiselle. How may I help you?" I could barely contain my excitement.

"I'm looking for my father!" I exclaimed, craning to look over his shoulder as if my father might be standing there, grinning drunkenly. "He lost his way in the woods and I think he might have taken shelter here." The man's face turned puce and he fidgeted.

"No, no, no one has been here in a long time," he said, beginning to close the door. "I'm sorry!" he shouted as the door swung. I stuck my foot in the door, preventing it from shutting. Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I glared at the man.

"Are you quite sure?" I asked sweetly. I knew he was lying – but why? Suddenly, another voice sounded from inside.

"Cogsworth? Do we have another visitor?" I smirked at the word "another," and the portly man flushed. He reluctantly moved aside to reveal a thin, handsome, middle-aged man in fine clothing. His brown hair was sleek and held in a ponytail with a satin ribbon. He elbowed Cogsworth out of the way and took my hand, kissing it as he bowed.

"Mademoiselle," he said with a radiant smile. "My name is Lumiere. How may I help you?" His eyes sparkled with liveliness. I couldn't help but smile; this man seemed much more helpful.

"I apologize for calling so late," I began. "But I'm looking for my father." Lumiere's smile no longer reached his eyes. "He was riding in the forest," I pressed, "and I believe he lost his way. I followed his boot prints to the front gate. I'm almost positive he's been here." In fact, I was absolutely positive.

"Well, mademoiselle," Lumiere began, clearly uncomfortable.

"He's not here!" Cogsworth spat, attempting to shove Lumiere out of the way.

"That's not true," Lumiere said softly.

"I knew it!" I shouted triumphantly. "Papa! Oh, where is he? I don't care if he's asleep, take me to him!" Both men blocked my entrance into the mansion.

"That might not be the best idea," Lumiere said nervously. My heart skipped a beat.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked breathlessly. "Is he hurt? Please, let me see him. He needs me. I'm all he's got."

The men shared an uncomfortable look.

"I'm sorry," Cogsworth said firmly. "You can't see him." I opened my mouth to protest, but Lumiere beat me to it.

"Cogsworth, have a heart! It's her father!"

"But – but Lumiere, what about the master?" Cogsworth quickly looked over his shoulder as if someone might be watching us.

"Cogsworth, we can't keep the girl from seeing her father!" Lumiere declared, his old smile returning. He offered his arm to me, and I took it. Cogsworth mumbled obscenities behind us. Lumiere led me into the massive foyer of the mansion. A grand marble staircase climbed against the opposite wall. Statues of angels decorated the floor and walls. Flickering lanterns dotted the walls; the foyer was very grand but in a state of disrepair. Dust covered every statue and cobwebs covered the chandelier. A shiver crept up my spine as I was led, not to the grand staircase, but to a side hallway. The passage became smaller, darker, and danker the further we went. When we reached a small stairway leading down, I stopped.

"Where is my father?" I asked, my mouth dry. Lumiere gave me a grim look.

"He's down here," he said. "Are you sure you want to see him?" Panic gripped my chest. I nodded, unable to speak.

We went deeper in the mansion. My breath was coming in strange gasps as my heart pounded in my chest. Finally, we came into a small dark room.. It looked as though we were in a small cellar. I thought we were alone until a small quavering voice broke through the silence.

"Belle?" I let out a shriek.

"Papa!" I let go of Lumiere's arm and flung myself across the room to the corner my father was in. "What's happened? Why are you here?" I turned to glare at Lumiere and Cogsworth. "What have you done to him?" I hissed.

"Belle, you must leave," my father whispered. "Forget me, and get out of here! Go back to Gaston; just leave me here! Hurry, you can't let him see you." I ignored my father's ranting and turned to Lumiere for an explanation.

"Your father came here late last night," he began. "He had been attacked by wolves, and he was seeking shelter. We let him in and tried to take him to a room, but he was drunk. He didn't seem to know where he was; he began looking for more liquor, and when he couldn't find any he flew into a rage. He broke several priceless Baroque cabinets, vases, and statues. The master put him in here before he could cause any more damage." I flushed. So far, the story was very believable. I knew firsthand the damage my father could cause when he was inebriated.

"Papa," I said softly. "Why were you drinking when you were riding through the forest?"

"That doesn't matter!" he shouted. "Get out of here! I can't believe you followed me. Go, quickly, before he comes back!" I frowned with pity. Clearly some alcohol lingered in my father's system. I gathered my thoughts and stood up, facing Lumiere and Cogsworth.

"I understand why he was put down here," I began slowly. "But why is he still here? Clearly he is no longer intoxicated; let him go and we'll be on our way." The two men shifted uncomfortably, and I let out a groan.

"He cannot leave," Cogsworth said sadly.

"Why not?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips.

"He owes the master a debt," Lumiere said with a frown. "The things he broke were worth quite a bit of money. The master said he is to stay here and work off his debt little by little." My face fell, and I knelt down beside my father again. His face was worn and aged; I reached down to hold his chilled hand. His eyes bore into mine in fear.

"Please, Belle, leave," he said, but his plea went unnoticed again.

"How long will that be?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of my father's anxious face.

"Until his debt is completely repaid," said a harsh voice from behind me. My father sat straight up, his face twisting in anxiety. My heart stopped for a moment; the voice chilled me to the bone. I turned slowly to see Lumiere and Cogsworth trembling with fear, facing someone I could not see in the dark doorway.

"Who are you?" I asked, pleased at how I was able to keep my fear from my voice.

"The master of this place," he said coolly. "I should ask you the same thing. What gives you the right to trespass here?" The cold malice in his voice made me tremble.

"My – my father," I began. I swallowed hard. "This is my father," I said a bit more firmly. "He was lost, and I came looking for him. I didn't mean to intrude; I was just worried about him."

"Your father destroyed several valuable objects," he snarled. "He is now in my debt. He is no longer your concern."

"Master, I am terribly sorry, I told him not to let her down here but no one ever listens to…" Cogsworth's ramblings were cut short by a loud roar. My head snapped around, looking for an animal, but I couldn't see one. Cogsworth let out a small whimper and backed away from the doorway.

"Now, Master, I don't see why the poor girl shouldn't get to see her father," Lumiere said, fear making his confident voice shake. The man in the doorway ignored him, but the way Lumiere cowered in fear told me he must have given him a dangerous look.

"Please," I said, my dry mouth muting my voice. "We can repay you. Let my father out of here, and we can discuss the debt he owes you." I could hear the man scoff softly.

"The things he broke were priceless. It would take decades for him to repay me!" The voice was cruel and I felt my father's hand stiffen in mine. I didn't like being unable to see the man who had imprisoned my father.

"Come into the light," I said desperately. "Let us speak face to face. Surely we can come to an agreement, like civilized people." The man let out a laugh; it was the most human sound he had made. He sounded truly amused.

"Have it your way," he said simply. He stepped forward past the threshold, and if my throat hadn't been so dry, I would have screamed.

* * *

**Note:** Finally, Belle is about to come face to face with the beast!  
I am thinking about uploading the next chapter today; what do you guys think? ;)  
-jonnilyne


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I am SO sorry about the late posting! Life gets in the way; I've been moving back from college and a new pet has been taking up all my time! She's adorable, though, so I forgive her. Anyways, here's the next chapter and the next one should be up soon! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - I hope you guys enjoy this installment! (:**

* * *

In the doorway was some kind of beast. He stood more than a head above me, massive in this tiny room. He was covered in thick brown fur, like an animal. His legs and arms ended in paws that hugely resembled hands and feet, were it not for the sharp claws at the end of each digit. He had on black trousers that were torn off at the knee, and his massive fur-covered chest was bare. He had proportions similar to a man, but he was much larger, more muscular. Two curved horns adorned the top of his head, making him look even more monstrous. His eyes, however, stuck out to me. They were bright blue, strangely hypnotic, and very much human; I couldn't move my gaze from his.

What was he? Man, beast, or some sort of middle ground? He stood there, gauging my reaction with a strange look on his face. I blinked several times, taking him all in with a gaping mouth. He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

"Not what you were expecting?" he asked with a sneer. I shook my head slowly and he let out a bitter laugh.

"Let my father go; this is cruel!" I protested. He shook his head.

"It is not cruelty to have your father repay his debt." I couldn't argue with him; my father owed him.

"Please, have mercy," I begged. His face twisted in fury; his eyes blazed with rage.

"Mercy?" he demanded. "Life has shown no mercy to me!" A loud roar came out with his shouts. "Your father owes me a debt, and once he has repaid it – and only then – I will let him go. Leave this place before I change my mind." He spun on his heel and made to leave. An idea quickly came to me; an escape.

"Wait!" I shouted, reaching out to him. He paused, not looking at me. "Does…does it really matter who repays your debt, as long as it is repaid?" Silence met my question.

"Belle, stop it!" Papa shouted. Everyone ignored him. "Damn it, Belle! Go back to Gaston!" Papa shook my arm, but still I didn't respond. I took a deep breath, thinking quickly.

My father needed me, and he needed alcohol. Locked up, he would have neither. It wouldn't be long before Gaston realized I was gone, tracked my passage through the forest, and I was forced to go back and marry him. The bruise on my face seemed to pulsate at the thought. If I left, I would have to marry Gaston, and Papa would be stuck here; I knew he wouldn't survive for long. If I stayed here in his place, though….

Papa could tell Gaston and his family that I died, that I was eaten by wolves. Papa could go back to our town; perhaps Gaston would even support him for a while. He could survive without me, and I would be free of Gaston. Of course, I would still be a prisoner, but I would not be forced to marry someone I loathed; I would be able to leave the mansion eventually, and then I would be free. My heart sang at the thought.

"You…you would stay in his place?" The beast's question broke my train of thought.

"Yes," I blurted out quickly. Finally the beast turned to face me. His face was strained; he seemed to be trying to understand me.

"No, Belle, please," my father pleaded.

"If I stay, will you let him go?" I asked the beast, steadying myself. He surveyed me for a moment, and then nodded. "Then I will stay."

My father began to pull on the hem of my dress.

"Belle, please!" he shouted. "Please, just go!" I shook my head again and gave him a smile.

"Papa, I'd rather live a life of servitude than marry someone I hate." Without thinking, I gently touched my cheek.

"Did Gaston…?" he whispered, and I nodded. "Well, everyone loses their temper at times," he said quickly. I gasped. Was Papa sticking up for Gaston?

"Papa, he struck me!" I shouted, outraged. Papa shrugged.

"Belle, you must go back to Gaston. Let me stay and repay my debt. Then, when I am free, I will have something to come home to!" It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did I felt sick.

"Something to come home to?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. "Like Gaston's money and large estate?"

"Yes!" Papa said quickly, but his face fell as he realized his mistake. My face froze. I had had suspicions that Papa was after the money and security he would receive from my marriage, and he had just confirmed them.

"You want me to marry Gaston so you'll have comfort and support for the rest of your life," I said. It wasn't a question. Papa caught my tone and flushed.

"Belle, that's not – I mean, you misunderstood – "

"No, I understand completely," I said, louder now. "You want money and people to take care of you so you can drink yourself to death in comfort." Papa's jaw dropped. I stood up, distancing myself from him. Tears sprung into my eyes; I wished Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the beast weren't here to see this. "You don't care one ounce about my happiness or wellbeing." My father began to sputter protests, but I turned away from him, wiping away my embarrassing tears. The beast was eyeing me, all of the recent fury gone from his face. His arm twitched, as if he was going to reach out and touch me, but he didn't move.

"I'm staying in his place," I said firmly. Papa didn't even make a noise in protest. The beast surveyed my face for a moment before nodding; he strode past me, grabbed my father roughly – Papa squealed in protest - and dragged him out of the room. Lumiere and Cogsworth followed quickly after shooting me piteous glances.

I stood for a moment, crying silently. I was relieved beyond words that I no longer had to marry Gaston, but my father's motivations had broken my heart. I had taken care of my father for nearly my entire life; I had put up with his alcoholism, cleaned up his messes, and never complained. Papa was the only family I had left, and I loved him with all of my heart. To discover that he obviously did not feel the same way was devastating. I also felt guilty that my own motivations to stay in this mansion were selfish. Shouldn't I want to make my father happy by marrying Gaston? I shut my eyes, shunning that thought. I wanted to marry someone because I loved them, not because they were wealthy or handsome. There was nothing wrong with that. I knew it was wrong of my father to want me to marry Gaston to make his own life easier, but it didn't make the pain any more bearable. The maelstrom of emotions inside of me made me feel as if I was suffocating. The emotion, stress, and weight of the past week had built up inside of me and were all finally taking over; I gave in to my misery. Sobs began to rack my body, and I fell onto the ground. I pressed my face against the cold stone floor as I wept.

I wasn't sure how long I laid there for, but eventually someone came back into the room. My head was swimming, my senses were muffled from mental and physical exhaustion. Large furry hands felt my forehead – was someone wearing gloves? My mind couldn't make sense of anything; my eyes shut as my body began to give in to a state of comatose.

"Get Mrs. Potts!" a deep, rumbling voice shouted. I felt more hands on me, but my eyes wouldn't open to let them know I was all right. I faded away, into the blackness, and for the first time in over a week I had no nightmare.

* * *

I snuggled against a soft pillow when I woke up in the morning. I kept my eyes shut tightly, clinging to a dream I had been having. There had been a beast, and Papa was there…. In my dream, I was escaping Gaston. I let out a small whimper, clutching at the pillow. Disheartened, I opened my eyes, but it was not my room at Gaston's estate that I saw. I was in a large bedroom decorated in varying shades of blue. Midnight blue curtains hid the sky, preventing me from knowing if it was night or day. The carpet was plush and cream-colored, complementing the light blue bedspread I was lying under. My mouth fell open. So it hadn't been a dream after all. How had I gotten to this room? Perhaps the beast had carried me; I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Regardless, I had slept extremely well. I sat up in the bed, feeling more rested than I had in a long time.

"You gave us quite a start!" a woman's voice exclaimed. I jumped; I hadn't noticed the plump elderly woman sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. Her grey hair was pulled back into a tight bun, but her face wore a relaxed smile. She stood up, smoothing out the white apron that covered her plain pink dress, and walked to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry," I said sheepishly. "I was just so…very tired." She nodded understandingly.

"It's a lot to take in all at once," she said with sympathy. I was unsure if she was speaking only of the beast or if gossip of the events surrounding my stay at the mansion preceded me.

"What time is it?" I asked curiously, anxious to change the subject.

"It is half past four in the afternoon," she said. I looked up in horror, and she laughed. "Yes, dear, you've been asleep for quite some time." I quickly got out of the bed, embarrassed by how long I had slept. "There should be clean clothes in that wardrobe," she said, gesturing to the chestnut cabinet beside the bed. "And after you've changed I can have some food prepared for you. It's a tad early for dinner, but I'm sure you're starving!"

"Thank you," I said with a warm smile. Clean clothes and food would be very nice. "Mrs…."

"Potts, dear, Mrs. Potts," she said, returning my smile.

"I'm Belle," I said, inclining my head.

"Your name rings true, dear," Mrs. Potts said, making a blush run across my face. "There's some water in a basin in the washroom," she went on, leading me to a small washroom attached to the bedroom. "After you've changed, just come down to the foyer. The kitchen is just off of it. I'll have some tea ready for you!"

Mrs. Potts left the room, and I went to the washroom, anxious to clean up a bit. The water was cold, which only helped to wake me up. I loosened my braid and my hair cascaded around my shoulder in waves. In the wardrobe were dozens of fancy, silken gowns; after digging to the back of the cabinet I found several sensible cotton and gingham dresses. I pulled on a blue one that was similar to my own. It was a slightly too large, so I rolled up the sleeves around my elbows. Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see the beast standing uncomfortably outside.

"Oh," I said in surprise. "Hello." I clasped my hands together nervously. Memories of his harsh words from the previous night flooded my mind. Had he come to yell at me? The reality of the situation began to set in upon me; I was in the debt of a beast.

He glowered at me. "I just…wanted to make sure you were all right," he mumbled.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better," I said with a weak smile. His concern confused me greatly. "Why…" I trailed off, swallowing. "Why are you checking on me?" His frown deepened.

"I – I mean, you're going to be here a while," he said. "I just…." He trailed off, growling slightly. "I don't know. My goal is not to make you miserable." I could not keep the glare from my face.

"You had no trouble throwing my father in your cellar," I retorted before I could stop myself. Fury twisted his face.

"Your father was drunken menace," he spat. "And by all means," he continued sarcastically with a mock bow. "If you would prefer accommodations in the cellar, those arrangements can be made." I shrunk back slightly, shaking my head. Fear slid across my face and I trembled slightly. "I didn't think so," he said before turning and stalking down the hallway. My jaw dropped slightly; I wasn't sure what to make of the beast. I had no doubt that he was capable of cruelty, but he had come to check on me. Did that mean anything? I shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts before exiting my room.

There were more ornate statues like in the foyer, and the hall was equally as dusty. I looked one way and then the other; Mrs. Potts hadn't told me how to get to the foyer. I turned to the right, deciding that I would go one way and then the other if necessary. Soon I realized that this was a mistake.

The hallway I was in branched off into six different halls, all of which looked exactly the same to me. I walked to the end of the hall, hoping there might be a staircase, but it ended with a blank wall. Sighing, I turned down the nearest hall, deciding to try each one in turn. The first three hallways were empty except for a few locked doors; the fourth was completely empty. I began to feel frustrated. What was the point of an empty hallway? I was about to leave the last hallway when I realized the door to a room was ajar. I stood for a moment, torn, but my curiosity won out over my caution. I gave the door a small push and it swung open with a creak.

The room was large and very dark; there were no lanterns or candles and the curtains were closed tightly. I moved to the window to let in some light, but when I pulled on the curtains I found that they were nailed shut. Confused, I examined the room. There was a large four-poster bed against one wall, but the mattress was ripped apart; a large pile of blankets lay in the center like a nest. Lying haphazardly on the blankets was a small silver hand mirror. There were chairs with broken legs scattered over the floor, and an old chest of drawers that had no drawers left in it.

Across from the bed hung a torn painting. Squinting, I lifted the ripped section back up to see that the portrait was that of a young boy with long brown hair; he appeared to be in his late teens. He was very handsome, with an arrogant smirk on his face. For some reason, I found myself unable to look away. His eyes were a shocking vivid blue, and they seemed familiar to me somehow. I stood transfixed for a moment before letting the painting fall again. Shaking my head in befuddlement, I turned and saw a small table that held a crystal vase; in the vase was a rose.

It was unlike any rose I had ever seen. It was so vibrant and red that it seemed to have an ethereal glow. For a moment I stood completely still, unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful flower. When I was able to look away, I noticed that the water in the vase was almost gone, so I picked it up; I would fill it up in the kitchen and bring it back. I didn't want such a lovely rose to wilt and die. Casting one last glance at the painting of the boy, I turned to leave the room.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard voices from the hallway approaching. I quickly shut the door back to where it had been and stood behind it, breathing quietly.

" – considered that she might be – "

"Of course I have!" I could hear the beast's rumbling voice cut off Lumiere. "It's all I can think about."

"Then you must do something about it." Cogsworth's calm voice joined the conversation.

"I don't know what to do," the beast snapped.

"You can start by controlling your temper!" Lumiere said. I could almost see his eyes blazing as he spoke. The beast didn't respond, but I heard him emit a low growl.

"Master, you must admit that you can be a bit – how shall I put it – " Cogsworth trailed off.

"Moody?" Lumiere offered. I could imagine the glare on the beast's face, and tried not to laugh.

"Be charming and kind," Cogsworth said.

"Smile a little!"

"And above all, control your temper!"

"All right, all right!" the beast shouted grumpily. "Now if you'll excuse me, my rose needs water."

Before I could move, the beast had flung the door open; it nearly hit me squarely in the face. My face flushed as his eyes moved from my face to the vase in my hand. His features contorted in fury and he snatched the vase from me.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

"I was just – I mean, the door was open, and I was going to put water in the vase," I stammered.

"You could have killed it!" he roared. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the rose. I shook my head.

"No, I was just – I didn't mean any harm!" He towered over me, rage evident in every line of his body. I shrunk away from him in terror.

"Do you realize what you could have done?" he screamed, baring his teeth as he roared and taking another step towards me. I began to back away slowly. "You could have ruined everything!"

"I don't understand!" I said in fear, tears beginning to fall from my eyes. I cowered away from him. "Please, I didn't know!" He stalked towards me and I stumbled backwards.

"Stupid girl!" The beast raised his arm as if to strike me.

"Master!" Lumiere shouted from the doorway, staring in shock and fear. The beast stopped for a moment and seemed to realize himself; he looked at his raised paw in horror. I inched away, my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. "I – wait –" But I didn't wait. I sprinted out of the door, knocking Lumiere to the ground as I pushed past him. I could hear the beast calling for me but I kept running. I didn't know where I would go, but I knew I couldn't stay here.

I had stayed to avoid Gaston's cruelty; I couldn't believe I had managed to find someone even crueler. I had done him no harm to him or his rose, but he had almost attacked me. I turned down hallway after hallway until finally I found the grand staircase. I stumbled halfway down it, hurting my ankle, but I got right back up and ran for the front door.

"Belle?" I heard matronly Mrs. Potts call to me, but I just wrenched open the door and ran into the cold afternoon air. From the sun in the sky, I knew it must be around six o'clock; the sun would be setting soon. Soon I was in the forest, still running for my life. I wasn't sure how to get back to my town, but I would find my way back somehow. I ran until my legs felt like lead, and then I allowed myself to walk. I didn't know how far or long the beast would follow me, but I was sure he would be faster than I was. Maybe it was pointless to run. All I knew was that I would never willingly stay with someone who was so hateful.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: **__Hey guys! (: Just so you know, every time I get a review, favorite, or follow, it completely makes my day! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or even just read this story. Thanks to my Beta reader (I love you!). _  
_Seriously, guys, review/follow/favorite or not, I just sincerely hope that y'all enjoy this story! (: That being said, I do love reviews!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast. I wish I did, though._

* * *

I walked for what must have been hours. It was impossible to discern if I had made any progress in my journey, for every patch of trees looked the same. The river and path I had used as markers on my way to the mansion were nowhere to be found. The air grew chilly, and I wished I had warmer clothes. The sun set, leaving me with no light – not that it mattered, I thought bitterly. I couldn't tell where I was when there was light; darkness would neither hinder nor help me.

My nose stung from the cold, and my lips were becoming dry. It was freezing outside. My progress began to slow even more; I could barely lift my legs. I tripped over a tree root and rolled over on my back, allowing myself to rest. Even though I had slept so long today, I was still exhausted from the past week. I closed my eyes, convincing myself that it would be okay to rest.

I heard howling in the distance. I groaned; the beast must be following me. After lying on the ground a few more moments, the howling began to get louder.

'Stupid beast,' I thought. 'I'll never get away from him.' Suddenly, it struck me – the beast didn't howl like that. Horrified, I sat up. Wolves, however, did howl – exactly like that. I stood up, too terrified to think about the fact that running would create more noise. I urged my aching limbs to sprint, hoping to just get away from the wolves. I ran into a clearing and stopped short.

Standing directly in front of me were two wolves, growling deeply and baring their teeth. I heard a twig snap behind me and spun around to see three more closing in on me. I tried to scream but choked.

'I'm going to die,' I thought dizzily. I was in the woods in the middle of nowhere surrounded by wolves. The wolves' growls twisted into snarls as my breathing grew shallow. One of them crouched back, ready to snap like a whip. I shut my eyes and thought of my father; I only hoped he could survive without me. I thought of the beast, though I couldn't bring myself to completely hate him. After all, he had given me the chance to escape Gaston, even if he had frightened me into the woods. Despite my knowing I was about to die, I couldn't manage to regret my decision to stay in Papa's stead. After all, death wasn't the end – I would be with my mother again.

I steadied myself, prepared now for death. I heard the wolf let out a yelp as he launched at me and felt his front paws hit my chest and knock me down, but then I couldn't feel anything. I closed my eyes tightly, grateful that my subconscious was shielding me from the pain. But then I heard yelping from all around me, and a roar that had become familiar in the past day. My eyes shot open, and there he was: the beast. He had a wolf by its haunches, roaring at it and throwing it to the ground. The largest wolf that had attacked me lay still on the ground, dead. The others yelped and limped away.

I was surprised by the fact that he was letting the other four leave. I had a feeling that if Gaston had been here, he would have hunted them down and killed each one. The beast stood facing away from me, his body heaving as he breathed. He turned slowly to face me, his eyes dancing with fury. When he saw me on the ground, pale and shivering, the fury melted away. He walked towards me and reached down without touching me. Wordlessly I lifted my arms up. He gathered me in his arms and I instantly warmed up; his fur-covered body seemed to radiate heat.

I wasn't sure why I was going back so willingly. Maybe it was because I now owed him my life; I also was in awe at the compassion he showed by letting the four wolves leave. I thought of Gaston, who enjoyed killing with a passion; the difference between him and the beast was astounding. I settled in against his chest and dozed off as he moved slowly through the forest, taking care not to jostle me.

* * *

I was surprised by how little time it took us to return to the mansion – I must have been walking in circles before. He carried me through the front and into a den off of the foyer. I noticed Mrs. Potts watching with worry and shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep. There was a fire blazing in the den; the beast set me gently into an armchair in front of it.

"I'll get some tea," I heard Mrs. Potts say before dashing out of the room. Now that we were back safely, some of the beast's anger returned. He paced the floor in front of me, not meeting my gaze. I heard Lumiere and Cogsworth enter quietly behind me.

"You shouldn't have left," the beast barked, still pacing. "If you hadn't, this wouldn't have happened." I cowered for a moment before recovering my courage. I had to be confident; I wasn't about to let this beast intimidate me any longer, especially if I was going to live with him.

"If you hadn't lost your temper, I wouldn't have left!" I quipped loudly. I heard Lumiere gasp dramatically behind me. The beast turned to face me, snorting angrily. We glared at each other in silence for a moment.

"Well, you shouldn't have been in that room!" he said finally.

"I was lost!" I shouted indignantly. "That door was open, and I thought I would be nice and water your rose!" I crossed my arms stubbornly. He seemed to think of a retort for a moment; his lips turned to a pout before he began to pace again.

"Just because a door is open doesn't give you the right to go into it, Pandora."

I was surprised at the mythological reference, but didn't comment.

"If you don't want someone going into your room, you should keep the door shut," I countered. He gave me a strange look.

"How have you made this seem like it is my fault?" he snarled.

"In a way, it is! You should control your temper," I said triumphantly. Mrs. Potts rolled a tray in front of me suddenly, eyeing me with adoration.

"Here's some tea, dear, and a bite to eat." The "bite" to eat was a platter piled high with sandwiches.

"You shouldn't be so nosy," Beast complained, but his fervor was gone. I heard him mutter, "Women," and I let out an amused snort. I sipped the tea, relishing in the warmth before digging into the sandwiches. I looked up to see the beast looking at me with a strange expression on his furred face. As I ate, I thought about him. He was childish, pouting and throwing temper tantrums, but…he saved my life and he showed mercy when he let the wolves leave. I wasn't sure what to think of him, and I was slightly concerned by the fact that I didn't hate him or even really dislike him. When I had finished eating, I looked at him shyly; he was staring at the fire with a confused look on his face.

In the silence that followed, I surveyed myself. My ankle hurt, but only slightly. The bottom of my dress was dirty and – my throat tightened – red. I clutched at my dress, eyeing the stains that were clearly blood. When had I been cut?

"I'm bleeding," I mused aloud, causing the beast to snap from his thoughts and turn towards me.

"What?" he asked, following my gaze to my dress. "Oh, you aren't bleeding," he said quickly. "That was me. I apologize for making your dress dirty."

"You're bleeding?" I asked, concerned at his nonchalant tone.

"It's nothing," he said, clutching his arm. I stood in front of him and planted my hands on my hips.

"Let me see it," I demanded dangerously. He glowered and growled softly at me, but I wasn't budging. The look on my face must have scared him, for he slowly extended his arm. The cut on his arm was long but shallow; a wolf must have just nicked his arm.

"I'll need to clean this wound," I said evenly.

"It will be fine," the beast snarled, yanking his arm away from me. The force caused blood to drip on the floor; I crossed my arms with a glare.

"It's still bleeding!" I said, exasperated. "You need to clean it and bandage it." The beast continued to scowl defiantly at me, but I held my ground.

"No," he said simply, and I groaned.

"Don't make me fight you on this," I warned.

"By all means – try," he sneered; my blood bubbled.

"Listen to me," I hissed through clenched teeth. "You may have spent your life getting to do whatever you wanted to and terrifying anyone who disagreed with you, but trust me; as long as I am here, it will – not – happen." The beast's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to retort, but I didn't give him the opportunity. "Now you can either let me tend to that wound properly or I can bludgeon you in the head with something and tend to it while you are unconscious. The choice is yours." My words ended in a growl that very nearly matched his. After a few minutes, he remembered to shut his mouth and begrudgingly held out his arm.

"Sit down," I ordered him, turning to fetch some hot water and rags. I stopped short at the sight of Lumiere and Cogsworth standing in the doorway, jaws agape. I couldn't help but smile at their expressions; clearly the beast wasn't used to being ordered around.

"Lumiere, could you find me some hot water and bandages, please?" I asked sweetly. I heard the beast mutter something about "you ask _them_ nicely," but I ignored him. I didn't look at the beast again until Lumiere rushed in and produced what I had asked for with a deep bow and a charming wink.

I situated myself on the floor in front of the beast's chair and sunk a rag into the steaming water.

"This might hurt a little," I cautioned as I wrung the rag out.

"I can handle pain," the beast said arrogantly. "You didn't even know I had been cut until I bled on you – again, my apologies." I rolled my eyes and gently pressed the hot rag to the cut. To his credit, the beast made only the slightest flinching movement before setting his face. He didn't complain at all as I gingerly cleaned the wound; I took care not to cause him any unnecessary harm. Finally, I began to wrap a clean white bandage around his cut; I tied the end of it with a small smile.

"All done," I said proudly. "Aren't you glad you didn't have to be unconscious for that?" The beast didn't respond, but I thought I saw his mouth quiver upwards.

"Thank you," I added shyly.

"What are you thanking me for?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You saved my life," I said earnestly. "If you hadn't come, I…. At any rate, thank you." The beast looked away, seemingly embarrassed.

"You're welcome," he muttered, and I smiled in spite of myself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Gah! I'm on a roll this week! (: Sorry to disappoint you guys, but this will be the last crazy one-a-day update, but don't worry! I'll have the next chapter up by next Thursday.  
Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter. These reviews seriously just make me insanely happy! (: Thanks again to my beta reader.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast!

* * *

The next morning I began to help Mrs. Potts clean. She seemed delighted to have a reason to do some straightening up. Cleaning was something that made me feel right at home; I was used to cleaning up after Papa. My heart ached as I thought of him; it was unsettling to adjust to life without him. I knew he would miss me, but I was unsure if it was me or my taking care of him that he would long for. Despite everything my father had done, I loved him dearly; he was the only family I had.

We were joined by a maid, Babette, but she was too busy sneaking off to rendezvous with Lumiere to get any real work done; she returned every time with her hair mussed.

We began cleaning in the foyer. Mrs. Potts lowered the chandelier and we cleaned away years of dirt and muck until it shone as if it was brand new. As we began to scrub the floors, I noticed a man I hadn't met yet standing with Lumiere and Cogsworth; they were huddled together and staring, not very surreptitiously, at me. I turned back to the bucket of soapy water; I was used to being gawked at like an oddity. Mrs. Potts followed my gaze and glared before stomping over to them. She gave them a whispered tongue-lashing and they all scurried away.

"Standing around gossiping," she muttered as she rejoined me. "When there's cleaning to be done! Don't you worry, dear; I sent them off to start cleaning the halls."

"Why would I worry?" I asked shrewdly. Mrs. Potts flushed.

"Well, there are no secrets in this house," she said apologetically. "It isn't common for someone to stand up to the master." I focused on the brush I was moving over the hard floor, trying not to blush. "He is so used to throwing temper tantrums unchallenged; you did him some good!" She smiled at me, and my face turned red. I wasn't sure why I was so embarrassed; all I had done was stick up for myself. Maybe Mrs. Potts was right; maybe I had done the beast some good by knocking him off of his high horse. I wasn't going to let him bully me into terror as he had so clearly done to Lumiere and Cogsworth.

Cleaning with Mrs. Potts was nice; she wasn't much of a talker, so I had time to just think. My relief was paramount at this point. There was no Gaston, no taking care of an alcoholic father; cleaning was a bearable, even slightly enjoyable, task. I felt selfish with my choice, but a small part of me knew that I deserved to finally have something in my life go my way. When I finished repaying the beast, I could go anywhere I wanted to go and do anything I wanted to do - it was more than a fair trade in my opinion.

There was still the matter of the beast himself, however. What disturbed me the most was the fact that his presence didn't bother me nearly as much as I felt it should. When he had carried me last night, I hadn't been even slightly uncomfortable. Shouldn't I be terrified of him?

He was an over six foot tall, hairy, fanged beast, after all. Somehow, though, it didn't seem to matter to me. He hadn't done anything yet to warrant my distaste, despite his bad temper. While he had shouted at me, he still hadn't hit me – he had come to his senses before it got that far. He had even saved my life, and I already enjoyed his company more than I had enjoyed Gaston's – though that wasn't saying much.

With a sigh, I straightened up and surveyed our work. After a few hours of scrubbing, the floor was clean enough to eat off of.

"I think that's enough for today, dear," Mrs. Potts said, wiping sweat from her brow. We retired to our rooms, and I was able to have another peaceful night of sleep. The next morning, we continued in the foyer. We scrubbed the statues, stairs, and banisters until we had removed all of the dust and dirt that remained.

While we worked, I had the feeling that I was being watched. I would turn around just in time to see the beast flying around a corner. The sixth time it happened, I sighed aloud and Mrs. Potts followed my gaze.

"He's shy," she offered; I scoffed in reply.

"He didn't seem shy when he was shouting at me," I quipped. She laughed.

"He has a temper," she agreed. "But he has also faced many hardships." My curiosity was piqued; obviously life as a beast was a hardship, but what other trials had he faced? I yearned to ask Mrs. Potts more, but she began to chatter about the weather; I took the hint and didn't press the subject further.

We stopped working around noon and went into the kitchen where an amiable elderly man made us croissants – he was the man I had seen gossiping with Lumiere and Cogsworth. Mrs. Potts introduced him as Bouche. He joked and winked at me as we ate.

"It is so nice to see another pretty young face around here," he said with a broad grin. "When I was in my prime, I would have loved to court you, mademoiselle." I giggled and Mrs. Potts gave him an amused look. Bouche gave me another wink and turned to pick up a tray of food. He was walking towards the kitchen door when it opened, revealing the beast. He stood with his hand on the doorway, surveying us for a moment; he hesitated as if deciding whether or not to come in.

"I was on my way with your food, sir," Bouche said in surprise.

"I know," the beast said softly. He cleared his throat. "I just thought that I could eat down here," he continued; his voice was slightly stronger this time. Bouche handed him the tray in surprise, and he awkwardly slouched across the large kitchen. Leaning against a bar, he set the tray down and glanced at me. I looked down, taking a small bite of my food. I could see Mrs. Potts eyeing me on the edge of my vision. There was a pregnant pause in which I continued to avoid his gaze; finally, though, the beast cleared his throat again and spoke.

"The foyer looks very nice," he managed to stammer. I looked up and gave him a genuine smile.

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. It was strange to think about the fact that I was having a casual conversation with a beast. I wasn't sure if I should still be angry with him for losing his temper or if I should let that go. I decided to forgive him as long as he continued to act cordial.

"Do you – do you like your room?" he asked, seemingly grateful that I was speaking to him. I bristled at the mention of my room.

"It's better than the cellar you kept my father in," I said coolly, managing to keep my voice even. The beast gaped at me and then frowned.

"That again? I've already told you, he was inebriated and breaking things," he defended. I saw Mrs. Potts stiffen. "What would you have had me do?"

"Not lock him in a cellar!" I exclaimed, not bothering to hide the disgust in my voice any longer. "You could have treated him amicably. What you did was – was…" I trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Monstrous?" the beast offered with a sneer. "Beastly, even?" I glared daggers at him.

"If you want to hide behind your physical appearance, then you're a fool. Being a – a beast doesn't give you the right to act like one!" I crossed my arms and scowled at him. He let out a snarl and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. I put my half-eaten croissant down; I no longer felt like eating. Mrs. Potts gave me a disapproving look, and I sighed.

"He has had a hard life," she said softly. "You might give him a chance."

"I've had a hard life, too," I retorted. "And I don't go around throwing temper tantrums all of the time." From outside of the kitchen came a heartbreaking roar; I immediately felt guilty. Perhaps I had been harsh; I didn't know what kind of a life the beast had had, and I should have tried to find out before judging him.

Still, though, a part of me couldn't excuse his antagonism. He wasn't the only one who had been cast a hard lot in life. My heart ached again as I thought of Papa. My mother had been taken from us too soon, hurting both of us. Papa, though, had only hurt me more and more as I went through life. Somehow I still missed him, though I couldn't make sense of why I felt that way.

"He can't let his past dictate who he is," I muttered. Mrs. Potts, after a moment, nodded slowly in agreement.

We returned to our work, and I kept my eyes on my tasks; I didn't dare to look up for fear of seeing the beast. After an hour of work, Mrs. Potts was growing weary and wanted to rest in her room for a short while. I decided to get some fresh air while I waited for her to recover. I threw open the large front door and immediately had to smile at the sight of the outdoors.

Despite the cold air, I could feel myself cheering up instantly. I stepped out onto the yard, relishing in the fresh air after being cooped up inside cleaning. I leisurely strolled around the front yard, enjoying the sound of the birds chirping happily. At the pond I saw several fish swimming contentedly in circles and couldn't help but grin. I wandered mindlessly, thankful for some alone time. When I approached the iron gate, I ran my fingers along it as I walked; the cold metal sent goose bumps up my arm.

Living here wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been; it was definitely preferable to being Gaston's wife. I shuddered as I realized that if I hadn't come in search of Papa, I would be married to that monster right now.

The beast was perplexing, though. He was childish and threw fits, but I couldn't help but pity him; I knew that being a beast couldn't be easy. I wondered how I would react if I were in his position - giving in to the anger and misery would be very tempting. I felt guilty for judging him so quickly. He had shown compassion and he had saved my life; I couldn't overlook that. I pursed my lips as I came to the conclusion that I would just have to give him a chance, as Mrs. Potts had suggested. I was shaken from my musing by a deep cough. I spun around to see the object of my reverie looking at me with a grimace on his face.

"I…" he began hesitantly; he stopped suddenly and sighed.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out quickly. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What on earth are you sorry for?"

"For being so harsh with you," I admitted. The beast snorted.

"I am the one who has been harsh with you," he murmured. I shrugged and he laughed. "Don't pretend I haven't been." I rolled my eyes noncommittally.

"I judged you too quickly," I amended, turning back to the gate.

"Thinking about running away?" he asked quietly. I shook my head almost too quickly.

"No," I assured him. A part of me screamed in protest, but I knew that I had no plans of fleeing. Here, I had a roof over my head and food to eat; escaping Gaston was an added bonus. "You'd find me, anyways," I continued offhandedly. I could almost hear the frown in the beast's voice when he spoke again.

"Not if you really wanted to leave," he grumbled so softly that I barely heard him; I pretended that I hadn't. What on earth did he mean by that? He would just let me leave if I wanted to? I gripped the bar of the gate tightly as I realized that I didn't want to go. Anything was better than being married to Gaston.

"Do you regret taking his place?" the beast asked after a moment of silence. I hesitated, tapping my fingers on the gate before shaking my head.

"I couldn't let Papa stay. He'd never survive here. Besides, there are many things worse than being your maid," I joked lightly. "But…" I trailed off, not sure how to explain the aching in my heart.

"Yes?"

"I worry about my father," I said, still not looking at the beast. "I miss him."

"From what I heard of your conversation," the beast began slowly. "Your father didn't seem to worry much about you." I turned around, glaring.

"Don't judge my father," I snapped. "He's…" I sighed, realizing there wasn't much I could say to defend him. "My father was all I had," I said simply. "I love him very much, and I worry that he can't survive without me." The beast eyed me with a bemused look.

"I can't say I understand why you care so much about someone who doesn't care about you." I smiled weakly at him.

"You don't have to understand. Honestly, I don't even truly understand it; the only explanation I have is that he is my father. In a way, I have to love him." I looked at the front door of the mansion with a sigh. "I should get back inside; we're almost done cleaning the foyer." Without waiting for a response, I began to tread through the yard.

"Wait," the beast called from behind me. I paused. "I did…have a reason for coming out here," he continued. "I wanted to..." His voice faltered and he cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. Somehow, though, I knew exactly what he was trying to say. With his temper and arrogant attitude, I couldn't imagine him asking for forgiveness very often.

A small smile played on my lips. "Apology accepted," I said softly. He sighed with a relieved look on his face.

"How did you -?"

"I just knew," I said with a laugh. He chuckled slightly.

"Thank you. Could we maybe…start over?" he asked, walking slowly towards me. I nodded. He gave me a broad grin and we traipsed back into the house together. Perhaps I had misjudged the beast. I beamed at the thought.

There wasn't much work left to be done after our break. I swept the floor one final time while Mrs. Potts finished cleaning the banister. Covered in sweat but extremely proud, we surveyed our work. Mrs. Potts beamed in relief.

"This place hasn't been this clean in years," she exclaimed. "Thank you so much, dear. I couldn't have done it without you."

I gathered the broom, bucket, and brushes together and put them in a supply closet next to the staircase. When I returned, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the beast were making a descent down the stairs. I heard someone clear their throat and saw Lumiere nudge the beast. He looked at me and shifted uncomfortably.

"It, uh, looks very nice in here," the beast said, looking down at his feet. I couldn't help but smile at him. Was it just me, or was he embarrassed?

"Thank you," I replied. "Really, though, I couldn't have finished without Mrs. Potts."

"You flatter me, dear," she said with a grin. "But you did most of the work. I just can't do as much as I used to. There's more of me to move, and I have less energy." I laughed, and even the beast let out a roaring chuckle; his laugh was surprisingly warm.

"So, Belle," Lumiere said loudly. "I think the Master wanted to ask you something." I looked at him expectantly, but he just stared fixedly at the floor.

"Yes?" I asked kindly, encouraging him. He mumbled something incoherently, and Lumiere elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ouch – okay!" the beast roared, rubbing his side. "Belle, would you…would you like to eat dinner with me?" My eyes widened in shock and a slight blush crept up my face. He was asking me to eat dinner with him? I pursed my lips, thinking. Surely there could be no harm in that. It might even be nice to get to know him a bit more, if he acted civilized. I thought in silence for a few moments, but couldn't see any reason not to accept.

"That sounds lovely," I said with a small smile. The beast beamed at me, flashing his fangs, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Let me go freshen up." Cogsworth told me dinner would be ready in an hour, and I hurried up the stairs back to my room.

I looked at myself in the mirror and grimaced. My dress was dirty and wet, my hair was limp, and I was covered in sweat. I bathed mindlessly, thinking about dinner. Why did the beast want to eat dinner with me? What would we talk about? I began to feel nervous, but then felt silly; what was there to be nervous about?

When I got out of the bath I stood in front of the wardrobe, stumped. What did one wear to dinner with a beast? I found a blue gingham dress hanging in the back and slipped it on. I braided my wet hair, let it hang over my shoulder, and then surveyed myself in the mirror. I looked much better than I had before. The bruise on my face was a lighter purple than it had been; I hoped that tomorrow it would begin to yellow and fade away.

I twisted my fingers together and sat down on the bed. For some reason I couldn't explain, butterflies had begun to flutter in my stomach. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. I glanced at the clock and saw that my hour was up. I opened the door; Cogsworth stood outside, arriving precisely on time like clockwork.

"Dinner is served," he said, a small smile creeping onto his usually serious face. I stood, preparing myself for dinner with the beast.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Hey guys! I am SO sorry about the delay; I've been having some technical difficulties and I had to end up going to the public library to upload this. Hopefully I can fix whatever is up with my laptop soon!

Thanks again to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/followed! It means so much to me. (: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

I followed Cogsworth down to the foyer and through a large door to the left. Once through the door, we were in a massive ballroom. I gasped as I took in its breathtaking beauty. One side of the room was covered in windows, which gave me a view of the beautiful gold and red sunset over the treetops. Another chandelier to rival the one in the foyer hung above us, reflecting the sunlight beautifully across the room. Paintings of cherubs and clouds graced the high ceiling. A large section of the floor was empty; I could only assume it was used for dancing.

There was a long ornate wooden dining table set with fine china; the beast sat at the head of it, watching me with his bright blue eyes. I smiled shyly again, the butterflies beginning to have seizures in my abdomen. I walked towards him, and he pulled out the chair at the seat to the right of him. I sat down, giving him a huge smile that he returned as he sat down at the head of the table. I looked around the ballroom once more, and realized that it was spotless, unlike the rest of the household had been.

"I'm glad I don't have to clean in here," I joked timidly.

"Mrs. Potts had Lumiere and Cogsworth clean it while you cleaned the foyer," the beast said with a smile. "It's been so long since we've used this room."

"Why did they clean it instead of the foyer?" I asked, confused. The beast looked down at the tablecloth.

"Well, I was hoping you'd agree to eat with me," he said sheepishly. "I usually eat in my room or in the kitchen, but I thought it would be nice to eat in here; I wanted it to be clean."

"It is nice," I agreed. The beast looked relieved. Just then, Babette and Mrs. Potts carried in bowls of soup for us. I thought I saw Mrs. Potts give me a small wink before they left again. The beast pushed his bowl towards me.

"You can have mine," he said sadly.

"Don't you want it?" I asked, furrowing my brow. He nodded.

"I just…. Soup is hard for me to eat," he said dejectedly. "I can't hold the utensils correctly." I thought for a moment, and smiled when an idea hit me.

"Eat it like this!" I said triumphantly, holding my bowl by the bottom and lifting it to my mouth. His jaw dropped open as he picked up his own bowl; when he realized that he could eat this way, he beamed at me. We touched our bowls together before drinking down the delicious tomato soup.

"Belle? May I ask you something?" the beast asked shyly. I nodded, only slightly wary. "What happened to your face?" He gestured towards my bruise without touching me. I had noticed that he seemed to avoid physical contact of any sort, yet he had carried me back to the house. I turned my attention to his question, trying to think of how to word my answer.

"I was hit," I said simply.

"By whom?" he asked dangerously.

"My…my old fiancé."

"Gaston?" The word surprised me. The beast had been paying attention to everything I said that night in the dungeon; I was slightly flattered. I nodded. His fists clenched, and he took a few slow breaths before speaking again. "So…you were engaged?" I inclined my head again. "Yet you stayed here." He paused, looking at me for further explanation. I sighed and played with the silverware next to my now empty bowl.

"Yes," I whispered. "I stayed here because I didn't want to marry him."

"Then why did you agree to marry him in the first place?" I was slightly surprised by the genuine interest he was displaying.

"I didn't," I spat. "Well, not really," I amended, regretting my harsh tone. "My father agreed for me." The beast raised an eyebrow at me. Suddenly, a wave of emotions crashed over me. Everything from the past two weeks bubbled out of me and I told the beast everything, starting with Gaston's proposal. When I told him about meeting Gaston's parents, I paused.

"When I looked at his mother, so trapped, so powerless…I saw myself. That would have been me had I married Gaston. I would have been helpless, forced to live under his harsh rule." I shuddered, and the beast gave me a grim look. "I knew then that I had to leave and find Papa. I couldn't stay there." I continued with my story, leading up to finding Papa in the cellar of the mansion.

"I had suspected that my father wanted me to marry Gaston so his life would be easier, but he had never come right out and said it. When he did – when I knew for sure that it was true - I had to stay here," I finished. "I was surprised I was able to make the decision; my father has depended on me for years, and I'm not used to doing things for myself. But I couldn't marry Gaston, I just couldn't." The beast's blue eyes were full of pity and he let out a bitter laugh.

"It's too bad you had to move in with a monster to escape your marriage. Out of the frying pan and into the fire," he said. I shook my head vehemently.

"Gaston is more of a monster than you could ever be," I said solemnly. The beast surveyed me for a moment before giving me a weak smile. Right on cue, Mrs. Potts was back with our main course: chicken, already cut up – for the beast's sake, I was sure – croissants, and an assortment of vegetables. We ate in silence for a moment, but it wasn't a strained silence. I was beginning to feel completely at ease around the beast; it was a relief to have someone to talk to who actually listened to what I had to say.

"There is one thing I don't understand," the beast said delicately.

"Yes?"

"The night you ran away, you…well, gave me a tongue-lashing like I have never been given. You stood your ground until I gave in." A light blush crept onto my face at the memory. "Belle, I'm a – well, just look at me – yet you were able to stand up to me. Why can't you stand up to your father?"

His question caught me off guard. I ran my fingers along the table while I thought.

"He's my father," I said simply. "He's done his best to raise me on his own…." I stopped and sighed. "Well, to be honest, he hasn't done a very good job since my mother died, but I remember what he used to be like. I suppose deep down I hope that my old father will return, but I might just be fooling myself."

The beast nodded but didn't comment.

"May I ask you something?" I mimicked him with a smile. He grinned and nodded. "What may I call you?" He didn't answer, but furrowed his brow in confusion. "I mean, what is your name?" I prodded. He laughed warmly.

"Just call me Beast," he quipped.

"That's not your name," I said, rolling my eyes.

"It's what I am," he challenged. I crossed my arms.

"A name isn't supposed to just be what you are," I said exasperatedly.

"Your name is what you are," he snapped quickly. His eyes widened as he realized what he said; I blushed furiously and we both hastily looked away.

"Beast?" I said softly, hoping for a change in subject. He glanced at me, blue eyes shining. "There was a painting in your room." His face suddenly became guarded. "Who was it?" He paused, frowning slightly.

"That is someone I used to know," he said slowly.

"Oh. Where is he now?"

"He's…gone." Silent, I waited for him to elaborate; he merely continued to pick at his chicken. I sighed, unsatisfied with his cryptic answer.

"Is blue your favorite color?" His question took me by surprise, but I nodded.

"How did you know?" I questioned.

"You wear it often," he said sheepishly.

"I love blue," I said, saving him from his embarrassment. "It reminds me of the sky, and…" He stared at me, throwing me off of my train of thought. His eyes, exactly the shade of blue I had been picturing a moment ago, bore into mine and caught me off guard; I shrugged but didn't continue. We finished eating quickly. I glanced out of the windows at the twinkling stars that had replaced the sunset and smiled to myself. Perhaps living here wouldn't be so bad after all. Beast was easy to be around and talk to – when he wasn't throwing a tantrum - and everyone else had made me feel welcome.

When we were done, Beast walked me up to my room. We joked about Babette and Lumiere on the way up; I was surprised at how long he had gone without shouting at someone. When we reached my doorway, we stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"Thank you for dinner," I finally said.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said with a grin.

"Good night." I opened the door.

"Good night, Belle." Giving him one last smile, I went into my room and shut the door behind me. Still smiling, I stood with my back against the door. I was glad I had agreed to eat dinner with Beast; it was good to know that he was more than just a snarling animal. I began to get ready for bed, unable to stop myself from grinning foolishly. A strange feeling was blooming in me that I couldn't quite make sense of. I clambered into bed and lay there for a long time, imagining Beast's warm laugh. I could tell that there was a good and kind person underneath his harsh exterior. I closed my eyes and drifted away to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The next week passed much the same as my first few days had. Mrs. Potts, the other servants, and I worked our way through the mansion, cleaning away almost a decade of filth. Hallway after hallway was scoured from floor to ceiling until the place looked brand new. Several times a day I would look up from my scrubbing or dusting to see Beast watching me; when I saw him, he would look embarrassed and scurry off, making me blush furiously. Mrs. Potts noticed and beamed at me every time it happened.

"I haven't seen him out of his room this much in years," she commented cheerfully one morning as he waved sheepishly at me before sweeping down a hallway.

"Oh?" I asked, turning to dust a statue so she couldn't see my cheeks redden. "I wonder why that is," I lied. Mrs. Potts let out a 'humph,' clearly not convinced. The truth was, I knew I was the reason he was out and about more, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Every evening, I joined Beast for dinner. Over the week, we discovered many things about each other. His favorite color was green, like the trees surrounding his mansion; he claimed it was because he loved being outside, but I suspected he loved the trees because they provided a barrier between him and the outside world. We both loved chess; I felt the urge to challenge him to a game then and there, but I resisted. I babbled for hours about my love of reading, even telling him a bit about some of my favorite books.

"Do you read?" I asked, embarrassed that I had talked so much.

"Yes," he said with a grin. "I read quite a bit. There's not much else for me to do, honestly." He frowned. "I can quote most of Shakespeare's works. I've studied Roman and Greek philosophy and mythology, war tactics, scientific journals, and just about anything else you could think of. In fact, I've read more than I truly care to." A sigh escaped his lips. "But it's really all I can do, since…." He trailed off, and my heart ached for him. He was trapped here because of his appearance and the small mindedness of others. I slightly understood what it felt like.

Quickly, I changed the subject. I told him a bit about my father, focusing on the good memories I had of him.

"Every summer, he used to take my mother and me to a lake near our town," I recalled with a smile. "We would spend the day together, swimming and playing. And every Christmas, we would spend a whole day baking and then another whole day eating." Beast laughed at this, but I sighed.

"I miss the father I used to have," I mused.

"Your mother's passing made him change?" Beast asked gently.

I paused, playing with my silverware. "Yes, but it was more than that. My mother died eight years ago in childbirth." Pity filled Beast's eyes. "The baby died, too. I was sad about the loss of my brother, but the loss of my mother overpowered it. It was different for my father, I think. If only one of them had died…." I paused, thinking. "It might have been different, but then again, it might have been the same. He fell deep into the bottle when they died. He loved my mother more than anything in the world, and without her I doubt he'll ever be the same." My heart ached. It was difficult to admit that my father did not love me enough to be there for me once my mother died.

"I'm sorry to bring it up," Beast amended, but I shook my head.

"It's all right," I said with a smile. "There's no sense in blocking out the past. It makes us who we are." He seemed surprised by that, but didn't say anything else.

"What about your parents?" I asked him.

"They died when I was a toddler," he said simply. "Everyone in the house raised me collectively. I was a handful," he said with a small chuckle. I looked at him quizzically, wondering about him as a small beast with similar parents, but I didn't pry. He would tell me about himself when he wanted to.

His favorite type of pie was blueberry; mine was chocolate. We both loved hot cocoa, although I put cinnamon in mine; Beast frowned and said I was "ruining it." Neither of us had ever been out of France.

"I'd love to travel the world someday," I said breathlessly. He smiled weakly.

"I'll probably stay in this mansion the rest of my life," he declared dejectedly.

"Why?" I queried without thinking. He looked at me for a moment before letting out a roar of bitter laughter.

"Look at me, Belle. I'm a monster. If someone saw me roaming the French countryside, I'd be shot." He looked away with a grimace on his face before excusing himself to his room. I could hear pained roars coming from down the hall that night. So he still had a bit of a temper, I mused with a frown. At least he wasn't taking it out on anyone. He was trying, that much I could see. Since I had brought up the painful subject, I felt responsible. I considered going to his room to check on him, but decided to let him release his pent-up anger.

* * *

Two weeks later, we had completely scoured the mansion. During dinner, Beast raved over how clean it was and how thankful he was until my face was permanently red from blushing.

"It's nice, the house being clean," he said with a smile. "It hasn't been cleaned in years."

"Why?" I asked, shocked. He shrugged.

"I've been hiding in my room for years. It didn't matter to me if it was clean or not, and Mrs. Potts couldn't keep up with all of the maintenance. So, as I said before, it's a good thing you're here." He gave me a broad grin.

"It's a good thing I'm here…to clean?" I asked slyly. Beast looked down, embarrassed.

"Not just to clean," he amended. I giggled, but didn't discomfit him anymore.

When I went to bed that night, I wondered what I would do the next day with nothing to clean.

When I woke up the next morning, my answer blanketed the trees and ground outside.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! (: Thank you SO much to everyone who has read/reviewed/faved/followed this story. I've never been so emotionally involved in something, and it feels great to know that you guys are enjoying it! Thanks to my beta reader, whom I love, and Borderlands 2. I've had writer's block, and for some reason the barricade cracked and ideas poured in while I was fighting the Warrior. Strange world! Anyways, enjoy! (:

* * *

December had brought the first snowfall of the year. A few flakes still fell, but the majority of it must have fallen during the night. The pine needles of the evergreen trees were coated in white fluff; the ground must have had a foot of snow covering it.

"Snow," I whispered when I looked out my window. "Snow!" I jumped out of bed, flung a cloak around my neck, and sped down the hallway to Beast's room. "Beast!" I shouted, barging into his room. I heard him snoring slightly; he was curled up in a ball and was sound asleep on the pile of quilts on his bed. I shook his back, bouncing up and down on my toes. He opened an eye and glanced at me reproachfully.

"You woke me up," he said grumpily.

"It's snowing!" I shouted. "Come on, let's go outside!"

"No," he said, rolling away from me. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.

"Get up right now," I said dangerously. Groaning, he rolled back over and gave me a desperate look.

"Belle, it's seven in the morning," he moaned. "Can't we sleep in?" I knelt down next to him and widened my chocolate eyes, giving him a pitiful expression.

"I love snow," I pleaded. "Can't we go play in it?" I pouted my lower lip out. Beast's resistance faded when he looked at me, and he sighed in defeat. I jumped up, beamed, and clapped my hands together.

"That was a dirty trick," he muttered as he stood up, stretched, and grabbed his large black cloak. "It's just snow."

"I don't know what you mean," I said, feigning innocence. I could hear Beast grumbling behind me as I bounded out of his room and sprinted down the hallway.

"Belle!" he called. Annoyed, I stopped walking. "You should put on warmer clothes," he chided. I groaned and pouted, but he didn't give in. "I can't have you becoming hypothermic," he said with a small grin. "Just go change. I'll wait right out here." I ran into my room and slammed the door.

I rummaged through the wardrobe for a few minutes. I found a woolen mint green dress and matching cloak towards the back. There were some fur boots in a drawer that I slid my feet into. I had bathed last night before dinner, so my hair was still clean and in a tight braid. I pulled the ribbon from the end and let my curling hair cascade around my torso like a raven waterfall. Satisfied, I hurried from my room with a broad smile.

"Come on!" I urged Beast. He stared at me for a moment, frozen, before he finally shook his head slightly and followed me down the hall.

Outside, the morning seemed dazzling bright with the white snow everywhere. I let out a small tinkling laugh as I crunched my way over the snow. The front lawn was gorgeous, completely covered in snow; the small pond on the grounds was frozen solid. I made my way towards the middle of the lawn and fell backwards into the snow. Laughing giddily, I made a snow angel. I sat up and looked around for Beast; he was still standing on the front steps of his home, scowling at me.

"What are you waiting for?" I called to him.

"I don't like snow," he snapped sourly.

"How can you not like snow?" I gasped.

"I don't like being cold and wet," he whined. I laughed loudly, and his scowl grew larger. I rolled up a small ball of snow and stalked towards him. "Belle, no," he said with a glare. "Don't!" But his pleas fell on deaf ears. I launched the snowball at him, hitting him squarely in the face. I collapsed in a fit of giggles, and he growled softly at me. "I hate snow," he muttered.

"Oh, come on," I said, frowning. "Stop being so moody all of the time."

"I'm not moody!" he cried indignantly, pouting. I put my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrow at him. He pursed his lips, embarrassed. "Well…I'm not moody _all_ of the time."

I threw a snowball at him in response.

"Fine. Two can play this game," I heard him say. I tried to stand up and run away, but I couldn't stop laughing, even as he descended down the stairs and stalked towards me with a malicious grin. He gathered up a mountain of snow in his massive hands and towered over me, smirking. "How do you like the snow now?" he asked as he dumped the snow on my head; it spilled all over me, soaking my hair and face.

"Oww!" I shouted, clutching my eye. "You got snow in my eye!" I burst into very realistic tears. Beast crouched beside me, his face twisted in horror.

"Belle!" he exclaimed. "What can I do? Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" In one swift move, I scooped snow into his face with a triumphant look. He glared at me. "That was low," he said. I responded by tossing more snow onto him and falling backwards again, overcome with giggles. He looked at me, his face turning up into a smile. Suddenly, he let out a laugh, and then another, until he too couldn't breathe for laughing. He fell beside me, letting out waves of roaring laughter that warmed my spirit.

"See?" I asked breathlessly, turning on my side and propping myself up. "Snow isn't so bad."

"Perhaps not," he agreed with a grin. Cogsworth suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Master, I don't mean to be rude, but it is quite early, and some people are still in bed, and the two of you are being quite loud -" His words were cut off as we both pelted him with snowballs. He frowned at us and stormed inside with a slam of the door. We both cackled again.

"Have you seen the backyard?" Beast asked, his eyes suddenly dancing with excitement. I shook my head. Beast leapt up and turned towards the house. I followed him up the stairs and into the foyer. We raced through the kitchen and out a small back door that led to the back yard. I let out a gasp.

We were standing on a large stone balcony-like porch that ran along the back of the mansion. There was a small set of steps that led into the grounds. The yard was sweeping and vast, and a huge frozen lake lay on the western edge of it. I ran into the beautiful yard and realized that I was standing at the top of a huge slope that slanted down to the edge of the forest.

"This is perfect for sledding!" I shouted back at Beast. He told me he would go inside and find something to sled on; I began to build a snowman while I waited. I had the base and the middle together when he came back carrying a thick quilt.

"It turns out that I don't own a sled," he said with a frown. "But Mrs. Potts said we could use a quilt. She said to just sit on the middle and pull the two front corners up and it should work the same." He paused, brandishing the blanket. "There's only one, though. You can go first." I took the blanket and unfolded it, surveying the size.

"This is big enough for both of us," I said softly. The blanket was massive; I knew it we would fit. I also knew how uncomfortable it made Beast to be near anyone. I wondered if he would sled with me. Beast gaped at me.

"No, no, you go first. This was your idea, after all; I don't even really like the snow."

I pursed my lips at him but settled myself onto the quilt without arguing. After I gathered the front of the blanket in my right hand, I pushed myself off with the other. I let out a squeal as I plummeted down the slope. I rolled out of the blanket when I landed with a thud at the bottom of the hill.

"That was incredible," I called to Beast.

"Looks pretty cold from up here," he retorted, but his voice was light. I trudged back up the hill and waved the quilt toward him.

"Your turn," I said with a smile.

He grimaced. "I'd rather not." I frowned at him.

"I thought you were done being a grouch," I accused.

"I am not a grouch just because I don't want to sled," he replied

"Fine," I said, raising my eyebrows. I moved behind him and acted as if I were situating the blanket. He slouched and crossed his arms with a grumble.

Suddenly, I lunged at him, arms extended. I pushed his massive back; he lost his balance and rolled down the hill. I couldn't help but let out shrieks of laughter at the sight of him; it was the first time I had seen him so out of control. He landed in a heap at the bottom of the incline. As he stood up and began to stalk up the hill, he glared at me and emitted a low growl.

"You pushed me!" he roared.

"Yes – yes – I – did," I choked, barely able to breathe for my laughing.

"And you think it's funny?" he asked dangerously. When I was finally able to stop laughing and take in several gulps of air, I responded:

"Yes. I think it's absolutely hilarious. Lighten up!"

Beast glowered at me; after a few seconds, however, his lips twitched upward and he let out a chuckle that made my spirits soar.

* * *

Around noon Mrs. Potts made us come in and eat some warm soup. She scolded us for staying outside for so long.

"You'll catch your death of cold!" she reprimanded shrilly.

"I'm not even cold," Beast teased. "I'm winter resistant." He clutched a chunk of his fur as evidence. I giggled into my soup, and Mrs. Potts glared at him.

"You might be," she cautioned. "But Belle isn't."

"I'm fine, Mrs. Potts," I assured her, but she still shook her head when we returned outside. We played outside in the snow until the sun set. Beast made a snowman, which I promptly knocked over. We waged another snowball fight in the edge of the forest, running and hiding behind trees from each other. When the sky was beginning to darken, Mrs. Potts rushed out and forced us inside. She eyed us both with a mixture of disapproval and happiness on her face. Again she made us eat soup, and we talked and laughed while we had dinner.

"Your face when I knocked over your snowman was absolutely priceless!"

"It wasn't nice of you to ruin my hard work," he said glumly.

"Hard work?" I exclaimed with a scoff. "Your hands and arms are massive; it only took you five minutes to build that!"

"It was still hard work." We looked at each other and fell into fits of laughter.

We made our way to my room after dinner, arguing along the way about who had won the snowball fight. I had hit Beast with more snowballs, but his had been larger and soaked my clothes and hair when he hit me with them.

"Quality over quantity," he said stubbornly. I shook my head vehemently.

"I hit you at least twice as many times!" I argued.

"You only hit me two more times than I hit you," he quipped. I gasped and glared at him in disbelief. He quavered, and then frowned.

"Okay, maybe you did hit me a good number of times more, but my snowballs were huge! We might be tied, but you didn't beat me." He crossed his arms and scowled at me. I let out a snicker, and he frowned.

"I'll take a tie," I said with a broad grin. I offered my hand to Beast. "We're even?" He surveyed my hand for a moment, hesitant. "It doesn't bother me," I murmured. He stared at me in disbelief.

"How does it not?" he urged.

"It just doesn't. What you look like on the outside doesn't dictate who you are on the inside. Why should it bother me to touch you?" Beast gave me a strange look before placing his paw in my hand and shaking it. My heart raced with the first physical contact we had had since he carried me weeks ago.

"We're even then," he said with a shy smile. I closed the door behind me after we finally said goodnight. Heat was rising up in my face, and I couldn't wipe away my smile. Today had been so much fun! The more time I spent with Beast, the happier I seemed to be. He was a little grumpy at times, but his tantrums were becoming less frequent. And when he laughed….

I sighed blissfully and moved to the mirror. My cheeks were pink, my eyes bright. I thought back to the week before I had come to Beast's mansion; I could recall clearly the gaunt look etched on my face the morning Gaston and I headed through the forest. The circles under my eyes had disappeared now, and my skin almost seemed to glow. I couldn't believe that I had found such happiness and friendship in this mansion. The thought surprised me, but I knew it was true. Beast was my friend – probably the best friend I had ever had. I loved spending time with him, and I found that I had already begun to miss him tonight.

I paced around my room, smiling at the memories of playing in the snow. Despite the late hour, I was too wound up to be tired. I thought about Beast mentioning that he played chess, and I wondered if he would be up for some late night competition. For some reason I couldn't explain, my heart began to beat faster as I left my room and headed for his.

Timidly, I rapped on his door. For one moment, I worried about him being decent; then I remembered that he never wore a shirt or proper pants to begin with. There was shuffling from inside the room before the door swung open and Beast stared at me in surprise.

"Belle?" he queried. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes," I assured him. "I'm here to ask you to play chess."

"Aren't you tired?" Beast asked, looking surprised. I shook my head.

"I can't sleep. So do you want to play?" Beast's face lit up and he nodded zealously.

"Of course I do! If you're sure you want to lose, that is," he added arrogantly. I rolled my eyes, amused. "The chess set is in the den downstairs," he said, exiting his room. He raced down the hallway, and I called after him, laughing.

"Wait for me!" I shouted, running after him. He paused until I caught up with him.

"We could race again," he suggested slyly.

"So you could beat me again?" I asked incredulously. "No thank you. Besides, Mrs. Potts would probably lock us in our rooms if she saw us racing through the house." Beast considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. We settled for slightly jogging down the stairs and into the den. Since there was only one armchair, we both situated ourselves on the floor around the chess set. Beast let me be white so I could go first, and our game began. He quickly took several of my pawns, but I retaliated by taking both of his bishops. The game raged on for almost an hour, neither of us gaining any real ground. Finally, Beast made me take his queen, opening my king up for a checkmate. He grinned at me haughtily.

"I told you I would beat you," he gloated. I laughed at him and shook my head slightly.

"So cocky," I teased.

"Care for a rematch?" he asked with a grin. I nodded eagerly, and we reset our pieces. This game went on even longer than the last one. He let out a small growl when I managed to take his queen, and responded by taking my bishop and both rooks. Finally, though, I had his king cornered.

"Check," I said, trying to mask my glee. He stared at the board, face growing darker by the second. When he finally admitted that he couldn't stop my taking his king, he crossed his arms and growled, baring his teeth. "That's checkmate," I declared smugly.

"I want a rematch!" he demanded. I thought for a moment. If we played again and he won, he would be unbearably bigheaded. If I won, he was sure to pout for days.

"You annihilated me the first game," I said evenly. "And I won this one. Why don't we just call it a tie? I think we're pretty evenly matched at chess." Again, I offered my hand to him. He considered this for a moment before a smile broke across his face. He shook my hand enthusiastically.

"Evenly matched," he agreed. "I like the sound of that." I shivered, suddenly feeling cold. "Let's move closer to the fire," Beast said.

"I'm fine," I argued, but he glared at me.

"That's not how this works," he grumbled. I furrowed my brow at him and he explained. "You made sure that my wound was cleaned out," he said, motioning to the bandage he changed every day. "But I can't make sure that you don't freeze to death?" I rolled my eyes at him but moved towards the fireplace. Beast grinned smugly at me before scooting up beside me.

His thick fur seemed to radiate heat; I inched closer to the warmth. Our shoulders touched lightly, and I felt my heart skip a beat. We sat in silence for a moment, peacefully watching the fire crackle.

"Christmas is just a few weeks away," I said, smiling at the thought. I felt Beast freeze next to me. "We should pick out a tree soon," I continued.

"I don't know about that," he rumbled.

"Why?" I demanded.

"I don't like Christmas," he snubbed. Almost immediately, he sighed. "Christmas holds…bad memories for me." His face was set with pain.

"It doesn't do any good to let the past control you," I said softly. He gazed at me, agony filling his eyes.

"Perhaps," he permitted.

"Christmas is a wonderful time," I went on. "It's all about being with the ones you care about. We should celebrate it."

"I don't know," he said quietly, still unconvinced.

"If I let my past haunt me every day, I would never get anything done," I retorted. His eyes blazed.

"I lost everything seven years ago this Christmas," he thundered. I crossed my eyes and looked daggers at him.

"My mother died in childbirth eight years ago, along with my baby brother. Since then, I have been taking care of my alcoholic father. You aren't the only one who has had a hard life," I spat. Beast's fury melted away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I sighed, regretting my outburst.

"Don't be sorry. The past is the past, and we can't change it, which is exactly my point. You have to move past whatever troubles you've had. It doesn't do to dwell on the past and forget to live."

"You're right," he admitted softly. "Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and I used to go into the forest and pick out a tree to decorate. If you'd like, we could do that tomorrow." I smiled softly, finally feeling a little tired.

"I'd love to," I answered honestly, yawning.

"We should go to our rooms," Beast suggested with a small grin. "You're tired."

"I'm fine," I said, waving my hand flippantly. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What happened to you seven years ago?" He squirmed uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

"Well, I…that is to say…nothing. Nothing that matters, anyways. Like you said, the past is the past." I furrowed my brow at him, even though he couldn't see me.

"If I wasn't so tired, I would argue with you," I grumbled. He chuckled softly.

"Go to sleep, Belle."

"Don't tell me what to do."

* * *

Finally we retired to our own rooms; I changed and quickly curled beneath my coverlet. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and smiled as I thought of my day with Beast. It was amazing to see how much he had changed – and how much he was still changing. He was smart, funny – when he wasn't being moody – and charming, and –

I began to have an unusual and unsettling feeling in my stomach. Why was I thinking about Beast that way? He was my friend – _just _my friend.

Why, then, did I enjoy spending so much time with him? Why did my heart pound when he was near? Why did he make me blush so easily?

I shook my head, displacing these awful thoughts. Already I had begun to feel queasy. I turned onto my side and forced myself to think of different, less unnerving things until I fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Again, thank you guys so much! Every review makes me smile. (: I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read this story; I never imagined it would do this well! To Anon **Lily**, yes, the servants are humans!  
As a warning (and an apology) to all, the next two chapters will be short. I separated them where I felt it fit best, so they're a little short, but don't worry! I have the next chapters ready and in exchange for their length I'll be posting again tomorrow! Thanks to my betas. I don't own Beauty and the Beast (unfortunately)!  
Hope you guys enjoy!

-Jonni Lyne

* * *

I woke up early the next morning and dressed. As I began to leave my room, my thoughts turned to Beast and I froze with my hand on the doorknob.

The speed at which he came to mind unnerved me, but I shook it off and exited my room. I was taken aback to see Beast slowly pacing the hallway outside of my room. My heart beat rapidly as he gave me a small smile.

"Beast," I said in surprise. "What are you –"

"We, uh, I thought we were getting a Christmas tree today," he said, sounding suddenly unsure of himself. My heart swelled; he had remembered!

Immediately I pushed the thought from my head and forced back the grin that threatened my face.

"I can't today," I replied, trying to sound off-hand. His face fell.

"Oh. May I ask why?"

"I – uh – Bouche was going to teach me to cook a few new things, and I'm sure Mrs. Potts would like some help sweeping the foyer again, and there are things to be dusted, and –"

Beast cut me off. "Is there no one else to do those things?"

He really wanted me to go with him, but I couldn't. To spend the day with Beast would put those disturbing thoughts back into my head.

"I really must work today," I said firmly. "After all, if I don't work, then my father's debt will never be repaid."

I turned towards the stairs as his jaw dropped; I saw his face twist from confusion to hurt to anger before I walked down the hallway.

It hurt to be cruel to Beast, but I knew it had to be done; after all, there had been truth in my remark. I was here to repay the balance my father had created, not to spend my time gallivanting with Beast. The less time I spent with him, the less attached I would become; I refused to become attached.

Before long, I was sweeping the foyer. Mrs. Potts had given me a strange look when I asked what chores I could do, but she didn't argue as she pointed me to the foyer. I moved swiftly from one task to the next, attempting to keep my mind completely preoccupied. After I swept, I moved to the hallways, dusting what little grime had accumulated. I kept my eyes planted on my work, refusing to look up for fear of spotting Beast.

I was surprised and maddened by how often he flitted to the front of my mind in spite of my efforts to drive him out. Frowning, I swatted the duster furiously and almost knocked a vase over.

How had I not noticed how involved I was becoming with him? It had to be stopped.

* * *

Bouche was surprised but seemingly flattered when I sheepishly asked him to show me how to cook something.

"Of course, mademoiselle. I was planning on making _boudin blanc_ for dinner; perhaps we can whip up some eclairsfor dessert." He immediately began showing me what spicess would be used for the sausage. Soon I was busy rolling and seasoning the meat; I found that I was enjoying cooking. Though I had made all of the meals for Papa and me, I had never had access to real spices or meat as expensive as I wagered Bouche's was.

"Where do you get your food from, Bouche?" I wondered aloud.

"There is a town about an hour's walk southwest of here," he answered. "That is where we do all of our shopping. I go to survey the food; Lumiere usually goes with me to help carry it back here."

There was a town so close to the mansion? It was even closer than my hometown. I paused, pursing my lips. If there was a town so close to this large of a manor, surely the townspeople must know about Beast's existence.

"Bouche," I began, trying to decide how best to word my question. "Don't the people of this town – well, don't they know about Beast?" I glanced up in time to see Bouche frown over the sauce he was stirring.

"They – they do not know about the master," he said. "No one from that town – or any, for that matter – has been here in more than five years."

"So they have been here in the past?" I pressed. Bouche shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," he allowed slowly. "In the past, we had visitors."

"What happened?"

"Ah, mademoiselle," he said with a soft sigh, "I am afraid that it is not my place to tell that tale."

"Is it because of Beast?" I asked, my curiosity piquing and drowning out my desire not to think of him. There was a pregnant pause.

"It – well, yes," he said finally. "But please, mademoiselle, no more questions." I turned back to the meat grudgingly.

I mulled over what Bouche had said silently. Something happened a few years ago, involving Beast, that made visitors stop coming. The thought of Beast ever having visitors was an odd one; the only explanation was that Beast hadn't – hadn't always been a beast. I frowned; that didn't make any sense.

Though honestly, I allowed with a sigh, nothing about Beast made any sense. I slammed the meat roughly on the counter in frustration. Not only did I have no idea what happened to Beast, but I had allowed him to, once again, occupy my thoughts.

A short while later, Bouche and I sat at the table in the kitchen eating baguettes he had baked. Lumiere burst through the door and helped himself to one; after he swallowed a bite, he smiled at me.

"You are looking wonderful today, mademoiselle," he said with a wink. I smiled, knowing full well that I was a sweaty mess. "Where is the master?" he went on.

"I don't know," I said coolly, picking at my baguette. "I am not his keeper." Lumiere's smile hardly faltered.

"I meant no disrespect, mademoiselle. It is just strange to see you without him!"

My cheeks burned and my eyes flashed.

"I am working," I said indignantly. "What Be- the master does is no concern of mine." This time, the grin slid off of Lumiere's face. He eyed me curiously and gave a small bow.

"I apologize, mademoiselle. I did not mean to imply anything." I finished my baguette in a silent fury.

Why would Lumiere assume I knew where Beast was? Had we spent that much time together recently? I groaned. I was here to work for Beast. I thought about how I must look to the other members of the house; they must think I was a – a floozy!

I wolfed down my supper in the kitchen as soon as it was cooked; the _boudin_ burned the roof of my mouth. As I was scraping the last bit of food off of my plate, Mrs. Potts bustled in.

"Oh, Belle," she said, giving me a disparaging look. "The master was looking for you. Am I to assume that there has been a change in your eating arrangements?" I gaped at her for a moment before replying.

"I just – I don't feel very well, Mrs. Potts, so I thought it would be better if I just ate quickly and went to bed. I mean, it might be contagious, and I – "

"Belle, there's no need to make excuses," Mrs. Potts said; her tone could have passed for nonchalant, but I knew better. "If you don't feel well, get on to bed then." I hurried from the kitchen, trying to avoid her judgmental stare. I half-ran to my room, desperate to be alone.

I hoped that I could fall asleep quickly, but my mind fought me. I couldn't stop thinking of Beast and of the reproachful look Mrs. Potts had given me.

_I'm not doing anything wrong, _I thought heatedly. I had done what I was here to do today, what I had stayed in Papa's place for. I had never agreed to spend time with Beast, or be his friend, or care about him. Punching my pillow, I turned onto my side and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, wishing for sleep.

I had almost fallen into a relieved sleep when a knock on my door made me jump. Begrudgingly I made my way to the door and flung it open; my jaw dropped when I saw Beast looming over me. His face was set; he swallowed hard and then smiled weakly at me.

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" he blurted before I could say anything. I touched the doorframe and frowned.

"I'm not feeling well," I lied. Beast's smile faltered, but he set his face resolutely again.

"I brought a book," he continued, brandishing one at me. "If you don't feel well, maybe I could read to you? Or you could just read on your own, and I could sit with you? I mean, is there anything you need?" I pressed my lips together tightly before responding.

"I'm fine," I said slowly. "I'm just going to go to bed."

"At least take the book, then," he insisted. "I know you love to read."

"No, thank you," I said shortly. Beast's face fell before twisting slightly in anger.

"Fine," he said before he turned and stalked down the hallway. I slammed the door behind him and sat on my bed, trying to keep from feeling guilty.

There was nothing wrong with my not wanting to spend every second of my day with Beast.

Confused and irritated all at once, I forced myself to lie silently until I fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: **To anyone who has followed or favorited: I accidentally uploaded a partial version of this chapter earlier, so don't be confused if you were alerted and found no chapter available! I apologize; I'm a ditz today. Again, this chapter is short, but I just felt that's where I had to make the break. The next chapter will be up within the week (sooner rather than later, hopefully!). Thanks to everyone who reads, and thanks to my betas! (: I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

The next two days passed in a blur. I would manage to find something to do around the house before joining Bouche in the kitchen. He showed me how to make various pastries and stews, and I knew that if I hadn't been so aggravated I would have enjoyed the task.

Mrs. Potts entered the kitchen around noon; I could feel anger radiating from her.

"Bouche, please take a tray to the master's room; see if you can convince him to eat today." Her words stung, as I knew she had intended, but I continued to knead the dough for the éclairs. Bouche hurried from the room, clearly eager to avoid the tension. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mrs. Potts watching me with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. I kept my eyes glued to my task, attempting to ignore the tense vibes.

"I thought you were different," she finally said. Caught off guard, I could only manage to gape at her. "I never thought you would let his physical appearance cause you to act so cruelly."

"Mrs. Potts!" I interjected. "His physical appearance has nothing to do with this – nothing to do with anything!" Her glare faltered for a moment. "I could not care less what he looks like, but that doesn't change the fact that I am here to work for him – nothing more." She continued to stare at me. "Mrs. Potts, you thought I cared that he is a – a – whatever he is?"

"I suppose not," she said, clearly abashed. "But if not, then why – you two were getting along so well!"

"I cannot forget why I am here," I said, turning back to the dough.

"But – but Belle, dear, the master cares for you," she said, turning red.

"Which is exactly why I need to spend more time on my chores and less with him," I said bluntly; I kept my eyes downcast as my cheeks burned.

"Don't you care for him?" Mrs. Potts asked in a hushed voice. I pounded the dough rhythmically as I mulled over her question.

"I cannot," I replied simply. Mrs. Potts let out a sigh but left the kitchen without further argument. It wasn't long before Bouche returned; my heart fell when I saw that the tray of food he had taken was still untouched.

Despite Mrs. Potts' apparent disapproval, I did not see a trace of Beast for the next two days. Most of my time was spent in the kitchen with Bouche; my stomach clenched every time Bouche brought back a full tray from Beast's room. Mrs. Potts' glares told me all I needed to know: Beast was holed up in his room, not eating, because of me.

Didn't everyone realize how much simpler my stay at the mansion would be without emotions getting in the way? The way Beast reacted only increased my confidence that we had grown too close in our short time together.

As I stood in the heated kitchen, I convinced myself that we were better off this way.

A hard knock on my bedroom door woke me up the next morning. Wiping my eyes and stifling a yawn, I trudged to the door and flung it open; Mrs. Potts was standing there, her lips pressed tightly.

"Oh, Mrs. Potts," I said with a yawn. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she said shortly, although her tone lacked the coldness it had contained a few days ago. "I have a job for you this morning. Please get dressed and then join me in the kitchen."

"Of course," I said with a small smile; Mrs. Potts turned and walked down the hallway as I shut the door behind her.

I pulled on a warm dress; the weather outside was seeping into the mansion, making it rather chilly. When I was dressed, I hurried downstairs into the kitchen.

"I'm here, Mrs. –" I stopped as I entered the kitchen and ran headfirst into Beast. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, looking at the ground.

"It's fine," he grumbled. I shifted uncomfortably and looked around him to see Mrs. Potts eyeing us curiously.

"I need you both to find a Christmas tree today," she said, acting as if nothing were wrong.

"Mrs. Potts, surely someone else would be better, I mean –" Mrs. Potts cut me off with a glare.

"Everyone else will be busy today, and if we are going to have a tree I don't want to wait any longer to get it inside. The master is the strongest person in the house, and he was going to get the tree to begin with; I don't want him going alone. You can help him choose a tree." I didn't argue as Mrs. Potts exited the kitchen to find an axe.

I stole a glance at Beast to see that he was pointedly looking away from me, anger painted on his face. We sat in silence until Mrs. Potts returned; Beast took the axe stiffly and stalked outside into the backyard. I hurried behind him despite my desire to stay inside. When the door shut behind me, he glanced back and narrowed his eyes at me.

"You might as well go back inside," he said as he turned away. "I don't need any help, least of all from you." I glared at his back, picked up my skirts and quickened my pace to catch up to him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I inquired angrily.

"You know exactly what it means," he muttered. "Look, I don't want to be here anymore than I am sure you do. Let's just get this over with." I allowed myself to fall back from his as my face fell. The fact that his anger upset me so much was proof that I needed to spend less time with him. I should be oblivious to and unaffected by his emotions.

We came to the woods at the edge of the vast lawn; immediately I saw the perfect Christmas tree. It stood almost a foot above Beast's head and was a full, green, perfect triangle.

"This is it," I said breathlessly; my joy at the discovery of the perfect tree outweighed my reluctance to be with Beast. He scoffed and looked around, clearly hoping to disagree with me, but he finally gave an unenthusiastic nod. With his stature and strength, it took Beast only three swings of the axe to fell the tree. He quickly dug his claws into the base of the tree and began to pull it backwards.

"I can help," I said awkwardly, feeling rather useless. He rolled his eyes.

"You would just be in my way," he said with a smirk.

"It's so nice to see the real you," I said through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you," he said, his eyes flashing. He flexed his paws, tightening his grip on the tree as he dragged it towards the mansion. "I bet you wish you had stayed with _Gaston_ now," he spat. "I'm sorry you have to be around a disgusting beast."

"Shut up!" I snapped, angry tears beginning to form in my eyes. "This has nothing to do with your appearance!"

"Right," he muttered before raising his voice. "Then what is it?"

"I'm here to repay my father's debt!" I shouted. "Not be your friend!"

"So you make up excuses to avoid me? You pretend to be sick? If you don't want to be around me, then just –"

Suddenly, Beast stopped, his face twisting in confusion. He lost his grip on the tree and slid backwards on something.

I watched in silence, my brain trying to make sense of the scene before me.

Suddenly, it hit me – the lake. Beast had walked right onto the barely-frozen lake. I ran around the tree to see Beast sliding – no, falling – backwards, his eyes wide with shock. He landed on the ice, slamming hard onto it with a sickening thud.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:** Hello everyone! Thanks again to all of my readers; you guys are awesome! (: Thanks to my betas, who keep me sane when my brain is fighting against me. I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Reviews are greatly appreciated! (:

* * *

_"So you make up excuses to avoid me? You pretend to be sick? If you don't want to be around me, then just –"_

_Suddenly, Beast stopped, his face twisting in confusion. He lost his grip on the tree and slid backwards on something._

_I watched in silence, my brain trying to make sense of the scene before me._

_Suddenly, it hit me – the lake. Beast had walked right onto the barely-frozen lake. I ran around the tree to see Beast sliding – no, falling – backwards, his eyes wide with shock. He landed on the ice, slamming hard onto it with a sickening thud._

He awkwardly tried to stand up before sliding and landing again with a thump on the lake.

"Stop moving!" I shouted. Didn't he know to stay still? With his weight, it wouldn't be much longer before the ice broke.

Panicking, Beast spun around on the ice to face me. I was so close but so far away. I extended my arms, willing my body towards him as I heard the first heart-wrenching crack. For the first time since meeting him, I saw a look of pure terror on Beast's face. He threw his arm out towards me.

Our fingers were inches from each other when a thundering crack sounded and Beast fell through the ice.

Panic swept through me, but I willed myself to remain calm. I had to stay calm to get Beast out.

At first, his massive weight pulled him under the water completely. I got down on the ground next to the edge where the ice had broken. When his head emerged, his face was frozen in fear. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

"Calm down," I half-shouted at him. He clawed at the ground next to the lake, but he was shivering and unable to get a good grip. I leaned almost into the water and grabbed his arm at the shoulder.

'Stay calm,' I told myself. The panic was threatening to take over, but I willed myself to stay strong. If I panicked, Beast would never get out – I pushed that thought from my head. His eyes bore into mine and he made a pitiful noise before slumping backwards and falling completely into the water.

In spite of myself and my desire to stay calm, I let out a shriek.

"Mrs. Potts! Help!" I screamed. Surely someone would hear me. I tried to reach into the water and grab Beast's horns, head, arms – anything – but I couldn't reach him; he was too far under the water.

Without thinking, I acted; I flung my cloak to the earth and jumped into the icy water, holding onto the ground to keep from going under.

I let out a squeal as the cold assaulted my body; it felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly all over. I took a moment to steady myself before taking a deep breath and diving under the water.

It was dark; I could barely make out Beast floating lifelessly a few yards from me. I forced my agonized limbs to propel me towards him. The cold made my muscles seize up, but I pushed myself on. Beast needed me.

'Get Beast, get Beast, get Beast,' became my mantra. My head began to spin from the cold and a lack of oxygen as I clutched his arm. Under the water, it was easier to pull him towards the hole. My body was shaking furiously as we both broke through the surface of the water; I took in a relieved gasp of air. Now that we were above the water, Beast weighed me down as his body slumped over mine, unconscious.

I held onto the edge of the lake to keep myself from going under the water, but it was a struggle. I found that I could barely keep my eyes open.

"I'm so sorry," I said aloud, my tears making warm streaks down my frozen face. I turned my head towards the house and saw Lumiere, Cogsworth, Bouche, and Mrs. Potts running towards us. Beast's head rolled on my shoulder; he was so still. Had I been too late?

_Too late for what?_ I wondered. What was going on? Why was I so cold? I couldn't think; I could only feel the razor-sharp pain of the water. But how had I gotten here?

Warm hands pulled me from the lake and it came to me – Beast and I were in the lake.

This was completely my fault. If I hadn't been avoiding Beast, we would have gotten the tree before now. We wouldn't have been fighting; we would have paid attention and seen the lake. Now Beast was still, and it was my fault.

"He's not breathing," I heard Cogsworth say. I pulled myself off of the snowy ground and towards Beast's massive, still body. I began to beat him on the back, yelling hysterically.

"Breathe! Breathe, damn you! You can't – you can't leave me!" The words leaving my mouth were my own, though I didn't realize I was speaking them.

"Belle, relax!" came Mrs. Potts' anxious voice. "You need to come with me." She tried to pull him from me, but I fought her; Lumiere joined me as I pounded Beast on the back until I heard him let out a cough and a fountain of water.

Pacified, I fell back into the snow and let myself fade away.

* * *

There were hands on my forehead. Annoyed, I tried to turn over but found that more hands held me still. My eyes snapped open.

A man I did not know stood over me, apparently observing me. Frightened, I twisted my head away and saw familiar faces.

"Hold still for the doctor, dear," Mrs. Potts said soothingly.

"Mademoiselle, I am Dr. Badeaux. Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I – I jumped into the lake," I said; my throat was uncomfortably dry. "I jumped in because – because – " I stopped, tears brimming in my eyes. "Where is Beast?"

"Dear, he's – he's fine," Mrs. Potts said with a forced smile. "You jumped in after him, didn't you?" I nodded slightly.

Silently, the doctor examined all of my limbs.

"You did not damage any of your limbs," he said with a small smile. "Now, I need to listen to your chest." Mrs. Potts ushered Lumiere and Cogsworth, who had been holding me down earlier, from the room as the doctor made me strip. I protested when he told me he had to put his ear against my bare chest, but Mrs. Potts glared at me and, feeling weak to begin with, I gave in. Soon, he declared my heartbeat regular and my chest clear, but that didn't make me any less irritable from the process.

"She needs rest and to stay warm," the doctor ordered Mrs. Potts, who nodded firmly. He left with a small bow to me; Mrs. Potts pulled my covers up to my neck. I immediately pushed them off.

"I have to see Beast," I demanded. Mrs. Potts put her hands on her hips and glared at me; I shrank into my bed.

"You will do no such thing. You need rest, and so does he." My lip trembled.

"Is he all right?" I breathed. Mrs. Potts' glower faded.

"The doctor was able to drain the water from his lungs, but he has the chills and a bad cough. Of course, the doctor isn't sure what will work or what won't, with the master's physique. Oh, we pay him quite a bit to ensure his silence," she added at my confused look. "Belle, dear, I must tell you how reckless it was of you to jump in after him," she said sternly. "You could have both died. However, it was very….brave. Dr. Badeaux said that if you hadn't pulled him out when you did, he would certainly have –"

"Stop!" I wailed, fresh tears lining my eyes.

Mrs. Potts sat next to me and pulled me into an embrace.

"I need to see him," I said as I cried. "I have to – I have to tell him how sorry I am."

"It's okay, love," she said gently. "You can tell him when you are both feeling better."

"I was afraid," I whispered, amazed that I could admit it. "I was afraid to care for him. And now this happened, and it is all my fault."

"It is not your fault, Belle," Mrs. Potts said firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"But it is!" I shouted, beginning to feel hysterical. Mrs. Potts shushed me softly and reached over to the bedside table. She grabbed a bottle and poured an amber liquid into a small glass.

"Dr. Badeaux left this to help you sleep. Take it, dear." I turned my head reluctantly, but Mrs. Potts was insistent. I swallowed the foul liquid, my nose crinkling. Within moments, I felt sluggish; Mrs. Potts lowered me onto the pillows and reached for my blanket.

I was asleep before she pulled it back up to my neck.

* * *

"Please, Mrs. Potts," I begged, my eyes wide and pleading. I had spent the last day in bed, despite the fact that once I woke up from my drug-induced sleep I felt completely fine. I kept reminding Mrs. Potts that I had not gone swallowed any water at all, and that Dr. Badeaux had not sentenced me to days of bed rest.

She had pursed her lips and my first pleas had fallen on deaf ears, but I was going crazy from staying in bed.

"Just let me into the kitchen. Bouche can make sure I don't exert myself. Please?"

Mrs. Potts gaze softened and she slowly nodded.

"I'll walk with you, though," she said, a hint of a warning in her voice. I knew she wanted to make sure that I didn't try to find Beast. Each time she had checked on me the day before I had assaulted her for information. She told me that Beast was in another bedroom ("_not_ that mess of a room he usually stays in!") and that his cough had lessened.

"But he is still resting," she insisted. "Dr. Badeaux left medicine for him, and it makes him sleep. He's barely been awake."

"But he has been awake?" I groaned. Mrs. Potts' mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile.

"Yes, for a few moments; when he was awake, he was as stubborn as you are being." I blushed.

We exited my room and headed for the stairs; I rejoiced at the chance to stretch my stiff muscles.

Soon, Bouche had put me to work, happy to have help in the kitchen again. As I stirred a sauce, he began to put together a tray.

"I will be right back," he said. "I am taking this tray to – well, I'm –" He stopped, clearly flustered. I spun towards him.

"Are you taking it to Beast?"

He nodded sheepishly.

"Please let me," I implored desperately. Bouche shifted uncomfortably; I widened my eyes. "I'll just drop it off and be right back. That way the food gets to his room and I – I get to check on him. Everyone wins!"

I could see that he was considering it, so I changed pace, hoping to catch him off guard.

"How can he eat the food if he's asleep?" I wondered aloud.

"Mrs. Potts will come by later to help him eat when his medicine has worn off," Bouche answered offhandedly.

"Oh please, Bouche," I begged. Finally, he nodded his head with a sigh. I practically leapt across the room towards the tray.

"It is the third hallway to the right of the stairs, the first room on the right." Smiling, I turned to the door.

"Thank you, monsieur!" I said with a broad grin. Bouche shook his head but returned my smile.

I hurried up the stairs, going as fast as I could without spilling any of the food on the tray. When I came to Beast's room, I stopped; my heart was thudding in my chest. I reached forward and timidly wrapped my hand around the doorknob. When I opened the door, I could hear a soft snore coming from the sleeping figure in the bed.

This room was nearly identical to my own; shades of green instead of blue decorated the fabrics. I crossed to Beast's bedside table and gently set the tray down, turning my attention to Beast.

Never had I seen his face so peaceful; his chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed. He rolled over in his sleep, letting out a small cough. I stood, transfixed, as tears rose to the surface of my eyes.

How could I have tried to pretend that he meant nothing to me? As soon as he was well, I had to make it up to him. My stomach clenched as fear took me again.

It was no small task to admit that I cared for him; the very idea of it made me tremble. If I cared for him, he could hurt me.

Despite my fear, I knew that I could no longer ignore the fact that I had feelings for Beast. I had been so foolish, and I had almost lost him.

With a small smile, I turned back toward the door; his voice made me freeze.

"Belle."

I waited for more, but I heard his snoring resume after a few moments. Heart racing, I left his room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** Hello everyone! (: Here's the next chapter; the next one should be up in a week, but it might be a little longer, and I apologize for that. The idea for a new fic suddenly came to me, and I want to get started on it before I lose inspiration. I hope to begin posting that one soon (fingers crossed). Either way, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Thanks to my betas, and to everyone who has taken the time to read this!  
Also, in response to a PM I received, this story still has a bit to go. I have the ending ready, and I'm predicting about six more chapters, give or take.

* * *

The next 24 hours made me increasingly anxious. Mrs. Potts still refused to let me see Beast when he was awake, insisting that "excitement wouldn't help his condition." I tried to keep myself busy, but he was all I thought of.

The realization and acceptance of my feelings brought a new wave of terror, excitement, and slight nausea. What if he didn't care for me as much as I did for him? What if my actions before the accident were, in his eyes, unforgivable? I wrung my fingers nervously; I was relieved when Mrs. Potts broke me from my reverie.

"Belle, dear, in just a bit I will need your help in the den," she said kindly. I nodded and wiped my hands on my apron.

"I'm free now, Mrs. Potts, if you'd rather," I suggested, but Mrs. Potts shook her head fervently.

"Why don't you go clean up first?" she proposed. I looked down and grimaced; I was indeed covered with flour and my dress was wet in spots. "And take your time, dear," she said as I exited the kitchen.

I hurried to my room, eager for a warm bath. I took my time bathing, relishing in the relaxing water. For the first time in days, I felt truly calm as I let the water encompass me. When the water had turned cold, I exited the tub and dressed quickly; despite Mrs. Potts' urging me to take my time, I didn't want to make her wait any longer than usual.

Once out of my room, I hesitated. Beast's room was nearby, and Mrs. Potts wasn't here; I could go in and see him. What would I say, though? What if he was asleep? Or, worst of all, what if he didn't want to see me? I turned towards the stairs, unable to bring myself to go to his room.

"Mrs. Potts, are you here?" I called as I opened the door to the den. "I'm ready to –" I stopped short, my breath catching in my throat.

I didn't need to go to his room after all, for sitting in the ornate armchair with a small smile playing on his lips was Beast. My hand flew to my mouth, and my heart fluttered.

I had spent so much time worrying over how I would feel when I saw him again or how he would react to seeing me, but all I could feel was pure joy. He was here; he was all right.

"I'll be back," Mrs. Potts said softly, turning to leave; I hadn't even noticed her standing at the side of the room.

"Beast," I breathed. "Are – are you all right?" I asked, trying to compose myself.

"I have never been better," he answered with sincerity that made my stomach fill with butterflies.

"I'm so sorry," I blurted, taking a step towards him. "I was – I mean, I thought – I didn't mean to, and if I hadn't –"

"Belle," he said softly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I am the one who acted immaturely. I should beg your forgiveness." His eyes shone as they bore into mine. "And I should be thanking you on bended knee – although I hope you'll forgive me if I stay seated, as I still don't feel completely well." A small smile crept onto his otherwise serious face, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Belle, you saved my life. I owe you my life, everything. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here right now." He took my hand in both of his and stared at me. "Thank you," he whispered.

I turned red, unsure of what to say.

"Of course I saved you," I said slowly. "I – I had to. I couldn't – I couldn't bear to think of…" I trailed off, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"It's okay, Belle," he said gently. "I'm fine; fit as a fiddle, in fact." He smiled at me and I couldn't help but calm down.

I swallowed hard, trying to work up the courage to say what I knew I had to.

"I don't mean to seem so distraught," I began. "I just...feel bad for treating you so cruelly before. And when you – you fell in, I was afraid…. I didn't want something to happen and leave me without the chance to tell you…." I paused and licked my dry lips. "I wanted to tell you that I care a good deal about you." I looked down, a deep blush running across my face.

"I care a good deal about you as well," Beast murmured. I glanced up at him; his eyes sent electricity coursing through my body. I was frightened by my feelings, but ultimately I felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

"Why don't we play a game of chess?" Beast asked with a smile; I nodded and moved towards the chess set.

We were quickly engaged in a match, and I was so happy to find that there was no tension between us. We cared for each other, but it didn't change our relationship. I had my friend back.

I had Beast back.

* * *

"It looks perfect!" Mrs. Potts exclaimed. I wiped the sweat from my brow and smiled.

"I still think the popcorn strings would have looked nice," I added, shooting a teasing glance at Beast; he frowned.

"How was I supposed to know that they weren't supposed to be eaten?"

Bouche and I had spent two hours popping kernels in hot oil; it had taken Beast only ten minutes to eat our entire supply while I was sorting through strings of tinsel and decorative balls.

Despite the setback due to Beast's appetite, the tree looked amazing. Silver tinsel cast light beautifully around the foyer; balls of varying sizes shimmered red, green, silver, and blue in the light.

"Just one more thing," Beast muttered. He moved to the pile of boxes that held the decorations and removed something wrapped in red cloth. Gently, he plucked the cloth apart with his claws and held the object towards me.

It was a beautiful porcelain angel with a silver holder to place it on the tree with. I tenderly took it from him, marveling in how smooth it was. Her eyes were closed, a peaceful smile on her face; her dark hair cascaded down onto her white dress. A golden halo shone around the crown of her head.

"It's beautiful," I said breathlessly.

"Do you want to put it on top of the tree?" Beast asked with a smile. He moved towards the tall wooden ladder we had used to decorate the tree and held it while I climbed up. I arranged the angel on top of the tree and stepped back down, beaming at the sight of the gorgeous tree.

Beast and I glanced sideways at each other, matching grins on our faces.

"All right, everyone," Mrs. Potts commanded. "Let's get these boxes cleaned up and the rest of the decorations up!"

Beast and the other men were sent upstairs with the boxes we no longer needed while Babette and I began to finish decorating. We found long strings of holly and wrapped them around the banisters of the stairs.

"You know Belle," Babette said as we worked. "I meant to tell you how brave I think it was of you to save the master." I turned red.

"It was nothing," I replied, slightly embarrassed.

"It seems amazing, but I can't say I was surprised," she added as she adjusted a bough of holly. "After all, I can easily imagine doing the same thing for Lumiere. It's easy to do things for someone when you really care about them."

I nodded, my blush deepening.

"Oh, I didn't mean to embarrass you!" she said with a laugh.

"It is just strange to me," I admitted, suddenly thankful to have Babette to talk to. "I've never felt this way before."

"At least the master isn't as forward as Lumiere was! He is very straightforward; he made it very clear that he liked me, whether I liked it or not! Eventually, he grew on me." She smiled reminiscently.

We chatted easily as we put up tinsel and red candles. Eventually we moved upstairs, decorating the tables and shelves along the hallways.

"So did you and Lumiere meet here?" I asked as I straightened a red taper candle.

"Yes," Babette said with a smile. "I came to work here when I was nineteen. You see, I was a bastard child, and my mother died in childbirth with me." My face fell slightly, but Babette waved me away. "It was so long ago, and I did not know her, so I do not really feel sad about it. My aunt raised me, but when I was eighteen she became sick. Within a year, she had died." This time, Babette's smile faltered. "I was very saddened by her passing, because to me she was a mother." She shook her head slightly and smiled again. "But that is in the past.

"So, I was nineteen with no social standing and no marriage prospects; I set off to find work. I came to Saint Gaultier, the town just an hour from here, hoping to find a job. At the market, I bumped into an elderly woman, who introduced herself as a Madame Potts. We chatted for a moment, and she mentioned that she was shopping for her master. My interest was piqued; she spoke like she worked at a large manor. When I told her a little about my situation, she insisted that I come with her. She gave me a job as a maid here.

"As soon as I walked through the front door, Lumiere rushed to my side and kissed my hand. Mrs. Potts shooed him away, but he kept running into my by "accident" and winking at me. I was flattered, but I assumed that he was just one of _those_ men." She looked at me and laughed, and I had to giggle along with her. I knew just what she meant – Lumiere came on strong; it was hard to take him seriously at times.

"A week after I started working here, there was a large vase of flowers on the table in my room at the end of the day. I knew who had put them, there, of course, but I acted as if I didn't notice them. I didn't say a thing to anyone about them; a week later, they had been replaced with fresh flowers." She laughed loudly. "Finally, I told Lumire, in no uncertain terms, that I was not interested in him, but nothing changed! He professed his love to me on an almost-nightly basis; he insisted that he had never seen a woman as beautiful as me, and despite my resistance, the flowers came every week.

"I was certain that he wasn't sincere, but after a while he grew on me." She smiled, looking away. "He convinced me to give him a chance; we went for a walk in the forest and he picked me flowers. Neither of us has much, and I don't think we'll ever get married, but we are happy together."

I smiled and realized that we had emptied the last box of decorations. I gathered the boxes together and straightened a stray strand of holly.

"That is very romantic," I commented.

"Yes," Babette agreed. "Lumiere is a hopeless romantic. It is a bit over-the-top at times, but I love him very much."

"And I love you, cherie," came Lumiere's suave voice. We both spun around to see Lumiere and Beast standing together; Lumiere beamed at us while Beast had an amused smirk on his face.

"We just finished," Babette announced, taking the boxes from me and shoving them into Lumiere's arms. "I'll let you put away the boxes for us." She winked at him.

"Anything for you!" Lumiere announced grandly, marching towards a storage room with the boxes.

"It looks wonderful," Beast said, admiring the hallway. "Babette, you and Belle did a splendid job." Babette curtsied; I could only manage to turn pink. "I – I'll see you at dinner, Belle," Beast said with a small wave as he departed.

Babette gave me a teasing grin. "I don't know the last time the master was this pleasant. I think I should be thanking you!"

"They can't all be as charming as Lumiere," I added, and we both giggled.

"Yes, if it wasn't for Lumiere," Babette continued as we headed towards the stairs, "I probably wouldn't have stayed when the master tu-" She stopped suddenly, her face pale.

"When he what?" I prompted. Babette shook her head.

"I am sorry, Belle, but I cannot tell you." I sighed but didn't argue. I didn't blame Babette for not telling me what had happened to Beast; I wanted him to tell me. However, I didn't want to _ask_ him – I wanted him to _choose_ to tell me.

* * *

My life had a new sense of peace and balance to it. Most of the day I worked with Babette or Mrs. Potts; I refused to neglect my actual duties.

I did, however, see plenty of Beast. He often hung around while we worked, no longer watching from afar; he engaged in conversations with everyone and helped us occasionally if a job required heavy lifting.

One evening, two days before Christmas, Beast announced that he wanted everyone to dine with him in the ballroom for dinner. Mrs. Potts' jaw dropped.

"That would be inappropriate, sir," she argued, but he shook his head.

"I see no reason we should not all eat together," he said firmly. "After all, there are only seven of us. Besides," he said with a small smile. "You are more like family than a staff."

We all ate together that night; Cogsworth entertained us with a story of how he and a schoolmate had put ink in his schoolmaster's tea.

"I had no idea you used to be so rebellious!" Lumiere exclaimed through laughter; Cogsworth turned pink.

As we laughed and talked, I stole a glance at Beast to my left. He gently took my hand in his under the table and squeezed before letting go and giving me a broad smile.

It seemed that I had found a place that I could belong, even though my circumstances were unusual. I knew for a fact that I had never been this happy anywhere or with anyone.

I should have realized that it was too good to be true.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! I am so sorry about the semi-hiatus I've been on; juggling two fics is FAR harder than I thought it would be! I found that I would spend a lot of time thinking about both of them, and when I would go to work on one, the other would cloud my vision. I've worked out a system, now, though, so both of my stories should have regular updates from now on. If you love me (or this story), you should definitely go check out chapter one of my new fic! (:  
Thanks so much to my amazing and gorgeous Betas who keep me sane. Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/faved/followed this story; you all mean so much to me!

* * *

I was braiding my hair Christmas Eve morning when a knock sounded at my door. Thinking it was Beast, I rushed to open it; Babette stood outside, smiling at me.

"Babette!" I exclaimed, slightly disappointed but nonetheless happy to see her.

"Belle, do you like to stitch?" she asked pointedly.

"Umm…I have before, and I suppose I enjoy it enough," I replied, truly confused now.

"There is nothing to do today until dinner; I was wondering if you would join me in the den and stitch with me?" I blinked, unsure of her sudden request. "Lumiere is gathering firewood; won't you come with me?" she implored, eyes widening.

"Of course I will, Babette," I finally said. She beamed at me and led me hurriedly down to the den. We settled ourselves on the floor after she gathered fabric, thread, and needles to use.

We sat in silence, threading needles and stitching along patterns of the fabrics. I couldn't help but feel suspicious about all of this; while Babette and I got along well, she had never gone out of her way to be with me.

I immediately felt bad; what was wrong with spending time with other members of the household? On the other hand, I hadn't seen Beast all morning – that struck me as odd. I suppose I shouldn't be so needy, but I was used to him seeking me out first thing most mornings.

I sighed and put down my stitching.

"Is something wrong?" Babette asked nervously.

"No," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm just surprised Beast hasn't come looking for me this morning." I watched Babette turn pink and push her blonde hair behind her ears.

"Maybe he's busy," she offered, focusing almost too much on her stitching.

"Maybe," I allowed, but now I was certain that something was going on. With a sigh, I returned to my work.

Almost two hours later, Mrs. Potts came in the den with a tray of baguettes and tea.

"I thought you two would like some lunch," she said with a smile.

"How did you know we were in here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Mrs. Potts set the tray down with pursed lips.

"I looked around, and just – I just assumed you were in here," she said with a frown.

"Hmmm," I muttered, not convinced. "If it's all right with you, though, I'll just run up to my room first –"

"No," Babette said quickly. "Stay and eat, and then we could probably help Bouche cook – couldn't we, Mrs. Potts?"

"Of course," she agreed, nodding zealously. "He'd probably appreciate some help."

"This morning, Babette said there was nothing to do today!" I exclaimed.

"Well, Bouche could do the cooking alone, but I just thought of offering him some help," she said. I sighed but didn't argue as I took a baguette from the tray.

Soon we were in the kitchen, although Bouche had insisted that he didn't need any help. At Mrs. Potts' insistence, he put us to work chopping vegetables or kneading dough for the meal that night. After the food was almost completely ready, I wiped my hands with a sigh.

"Shouldn't we wash up before supper?" I suggested, trying to keep the aggravation from my voice.

"Not – not yet!" Mrs. Potts said insistently. I placed my hands on my hips.

"What is going on?" I demanded.

"Nothing at all," Babette said nervously, eyeing the kitchen door.

Suddenly, the door slammed open; I spun around to see Beast standing in the doorway, seeming slightly out of breath.

"Belle!" he exclaimed, giving me a smile; some of my annoyance faded away. "Won't you come with me?" I glanced at Babette and Mrs. Potts, who had relieved looks on their faces, before nodding and moving towards him.

"Where have you been today?" I asked once we were out of the kitchen; I attempted to sound nonchalant.

"I was – I was helping Lumiere with a few things," he said.

"Really?" I asked incredulously; Beast gave me a sheepish grin.

"No, not really," he admitted, leading me up the stairs. "Lumiere was helping _me_ with your Christmas present."

My face turned scarlet; had this all been so that he could get me a _present_? My curiosity was piqued.

"M-my present?" I asked; it suddenly occurred to me that I had nothing to give in return. "Why did it require my distraction all day?" We had reached my room, and his paw hesitated over the doorknob.

"You'll see," he muttered. "Now, close your eyes."

"Why?" I asked indignantly.

"Because it's a surprise," he growled. "Don't make me blindfold you."

"You wouldn't," I argued, but the look on his face made me shut my eyes tightly. I felt him timidly clasp his hand in mine as he opened my door and led me inside. I tightened my grip on his paw as we crossed the threshold; my heart skipped a beat.

Beast let go of my hand and stood behind me; he gingerly touched my arms and moved me slightly to the right before backing away.

"Okay…." he said softly. "You can open your eyes now."

My eyes shot open to see the wall to my room – only it wasn't a wall anymore. In place of the wall in front of me – and the other two walls not encompassed by my bed – were bookshelves; they stood more than a head above me, but I could tell that the tops were still within my arm's reach. The three bookshelf walls were entirely filled with books of every height and width; as I scanned the titles, I could see scientific journals, fairy tales, cookbooks.

Beast had turned my room into a library.

My hands flew to my mouth in shock; I had almost as many books in my room as the book store in my town had.

"Oh, Beast," I said breathlessly. I moved towards the shelf in front of me and ran my hand along the spines of the books.

"Y-you like it?" he asked nervously. I spun around, eyes dancing and face lit up in a huge smile.

"Like it?" I replied. "No, I don't like it. I absolutely love it. It's so perfect!" In a rapid movement, I flung my arms around his neck; after a moment, I pulled away as my heart thudded in my chest. "Thank you so much," I said sincerely. "How on earth did you do all of this?"

"That's why you had to be distracted," he said with a small smile. "Lumiere and Cogsworth helped me build the shelves today while Babette kept you out of here. The books belonged to my parents. I've been searching all over the house for every book I could find; I've read most of them, and I thought you would enjoy them."

"I will – I do!" I exclaimed. "Beast, this is fantastic. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said with a smile; his eyes shone and made my heart skip a beat. "I'm so very glad that you like it."

"I love it," I assured him. "Now you'd better go and let me get changed for dinner." I shooed him out, matching grins on our faces.

Quickly I changed into one of the fancier dresses that filled the front of my wardrobe. It was a deep, midnight blue dress that ballooned out a small ways from my legs. I ran my fingers over the fine, silken fabric; never in my life had I worn something so luxurious. I pulled the ribbon from my tight braid and ran a brush through my hair, allowing it to fall around me in gentle waves. Slightly nervous and very hungry, I made my way out of my room.

To my surprise, Beast came around the corner – but he looked different. He had on fresh trousers; the edges were not tattered as his others had been. Instead of baring his furred chest, he had on a crisp white shirt that appeared to have been tailored to fit his physique.

Beast had never seemed as human to me as he did in that moment. When he smiled, everything else seemed to fade away; my heart thudded in my chest and I knew that it didn't matter what he looked like.

"You look beautiful," he said softly as he approached me. My face turned red and I tried to smile, but my heart was beating too rapidly.

He extended his arm; I took it – almost needing it to steady myself - and he began to escort me to the ballroom, where we would all be eating Christmas supper. Where our arms touched, I felt his fur – it felt much smoother and thinner.

"Have you _brushed_ your fur?" I asked, trying not to giggle.

"No," he said, looking down bashfully. At this, I did let out a laugh, but Beast joined in rather than feeling embarrassed.

The long dining table had been decorated with red candles, holly, and the best china set out. Bouche had made a bountiful feast: turkey, ham, chicken, cranberry sauce, vegetables, and a traditional _Buche de Noel_ cake for dessert.

After Grace, we all began to eat. Mrs. Potts' had poured wine for everyone; at my request, I had water. I was too wary of my father's habits to even allow myself to try it. Lumiere had several glasses before anyone had finished one plate of food and began to tell crude jokes. Mrs. Potts' glared at him while Bouche and Beast guffawed; my eyes widened and my cheeks turned pink. I saw Babette watching Lumiere with doe eyes and felt a twinge of – _jealousy_.

Perhaps there had been another reason I had avoided anything more than friendship with Beast, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself. Despite any feelings we might have for each other, could there ever truly be anything between us? Could we – was I just fooling myself here? – wed?

I felt Beast squeeze my hand; when I looked up at him, he was wearing a charming smile. I allowed my concerns to melt away. After all, I was extremely happy right now. There was no need to ruin it.

Christmas morning dawned bright and early. We gathered in the den to burn the Yule log. We were going to do it the previous night, but Lumiere had become a little intoxicated and Mrs. Potts had sent him off to bed with a glare.

Of course, when Mrs. Potts wasn't looking, Babette ran right after him.

"Please, Mrs. Potts?" I begged. Beast stood beside me; there were matching pleading stares on our faces.

"Oh, fine!" she finally relented. "But if you take one _step _off of that porch, I'll tie you both up in your rooms until the snow melts!"

Cheerfully, Beast and I made our way through the kitchen to the back porch; after a morning of beseeching and begging, we had finally convinced Mrs. Potts to let us have some fresh air.

"Merry Christmas," Beast said with a smile once we were seated on the steps of the porch.

"Merry Christmas," I replied, extremely aware of how close we were. We sat in peaceful silence for a moment, watching birds fly around in the backyard.

"Belle, would you like to have a party on New Year's Eve? It would be small, but it would still let us celebrate." My eyes widened; did he know?

"Celebrate what?" I asked.

"Uh – the New Year." I blinked, finally understanding.

"Oh, yes! Of course; that sounds lovely." We grinned at each other; after a moment, though, Beast's smile faltered. His face turned hard and serious.

"Belle, I have something that I need to tell you." My heart skipped a beat.

"What is it?"

"It's about – well, it's about me. I know you aren't stupid, and I've avoided the subject for long enough. I think it's time that I told you how this –" he gestured to his chest "- came to be."

I turned slightly on the steps so that I could look at him more easily. His breathing was rapid, and his face was troubled.

"You don't have to tell me, you know," I offered softly, even though my own curiosity was about to drive me insane.

"No, I need to tell you," he insisted. "You deserve to know, and … I _want_ you to know."

"Thank you," I breathed; I was relieved that my curiosity would be slated and touched by the fact that he trusted me enough to tell me his tale.

"Let me begin by again saying that I am not proud of the boy I used to be. My parents were Auguste and Elise Laurent. They were extremely wealthy; this mansion was a wedding present from my father to my mother. I'm not exactly sure how they amassed their fortune – if it was old money, business, or a combination of the two. From what Mrs. Potts has told me, before I was born this mansion was a lively place; they were always hosting a party or get-together for the rich and fabulous. They were extremely well respected, and I was destined for their life of grandeur.

"One summer evening when I was only two, my parents travelled to Paris for some sort of soiree. On their way back, their carriage was robbed and they were murdered.

"Once I was old enough to truly understand what had happened, I was so angry – at my parents, at their killers, at everyone. Why did they have to go to a party so far away in Paris and leave me here? Was I not good enough for them? Why did the bandits have to kill them? The money they stole wasn't enough to satisfy them? I felt so alone, even though everyone who worked here loved me and raised me in my parents' stead. When I became a teenager, it occurred to me that I had everything I needed: I had become very handsome at a young age, and I had my parents' fortune to fulfill my every desire. I began to host grand parties here, as my parents had before me. I was the envy of everyone who entered my mansion; I was such a young boy, yet I had everything I could ever need or want.

"I became cruel and vain. My happiness depended upon the lavish parties I threw. I progressed through my teen years, growing more handsome and unkind with every day. Then, on Christmas Eve of my sixteenth year, my entire life changed.

"I was in a foul mood because everyone had denied my invitation to a Christmas party.

"'They want to spend Christmas with their families,' Mrs. Potts told me, but I just rolled my eyes and fell into an even darker mood. After all, in my mind I had no family to spend Christmas with. How blind I was. Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. I was ecstatic; someone must have changed their mind about coming for Christmas. I hissed at Mrs. Potts to put some tea on and rushed to the front door. I threw it open with a smile that quickly faded to a glare.

"Standing on the front steps was a haggard old woman. She was bent over, clutching her shawl around her withered frame.

"'Please, good sir,' she whispered. 'Would you give an old woman shelter from the bitter cold? I can offer you this rose in return.' She brandished a small rose and I sneered. I was extremely annoyed by this woman's presence and her wretched appearance.

"'What would I want with a rose? There's no room,' I shouted, turning away.

"'Please, sir,' she begged, clutching at my shirt. I pushed her away, disgusted.

"'You can't stay here, hag!' I shouted. I looked into her eyes for the first time and noticed that they were a startling violet.

"'You should not put so much stock in appearances,' she said, but her voice had changed. She backed away and stood up straight, straighter than I would have thought she could. Her face seemed to twist and melt away, revealing the beautiful, thin, pale face of a young woman. Her violet eyes blazed as her robes fell away to reveal fine golden clothing. My jaw dropped.

"'I may have been mistaken,' I amended. 'There might be some room. Please, come in.' But the beautiful woman shook her head, tossing her golden hair.

"'You turned me away when I was in another form,' she said, her voice beginning to reverberate. I heard the door widen behind me, heard Mrs. Potts' sharp intake of breath. 'You are cruel, young master. You judge people on their wealth and their beauty. Your attractive exterior masks a cold black heart!' She seemed to lift off of the ground, raising her arms. 'I shall remedy that!' Her voice turned harsh, and my heart sank. I collapsed to my knees.

"'Please,' I begged. 'Have mercy!'

"'You have shown no mercy to others!' she rebuked. 'So none shall be shown to you! I will give you a physical appearance that matches the beast inside of you!' She flung her arms towards me, and a rush of light shot at me. I curled into a fetal position, covering my head. Mrs. Potts began to scream. I felt myself growing, felt my legs and arms changing. I tried to scream, but a roar came out instead. I looked up and glanced at my hands – no, my paws. I fell back, screaming and roaring, and the witch gave me a triumphant smirk.

"'What did you do to me?' I screamed in agony.

"'I have made you into what you already were inside – a beast.'"

Here, Beast paused his story, as if he were mentally editing it.

"'This rose,' she gestured at the flower that had fallen to the ground, 'was meant to bring you good fortune had you given me shelter. Now, it will be your only hope. It will bloom for many years; when it dies, your curse will be beyond breaking.' She pulled a mirror out of thin air and handed it to me. 'Let your new physique be your motivation!' I looked at myself – my human features were gone, replaced by beastly fur and horns. I turned back to the witch, but she was gone. I picked up the roses and ran back into the mansion, nearly knocking over Mrs. Potts. I ran on all fours to my room and destroyed it. I tore my painting, demolished my bed, and raged for hours. After I had trashed everything I could get my paws onto, I began to cry. I sobbed and let out wails of pain all night. Eventually, Mrs. Potts knocked on my door.

"'Dear, you must come out,' she said softly. Numb, I allowed her to lead me out into the foyer where the dozens of servants my parents had employed were waiting. Mrs. Potts explained to them what had happened while I tried to ignore their horrified looks. One man who had served as a butler for years openly stared at me, and I felt my blood boil.

"'What are you looking at?' I snarled.

"'Nothing, sir,' he mumbled, embarrassed. I pushed my way through the mass of servants and began to scream in his face.

"'You think you can stare at me just because I'm a beast now? You're staring at the beast?'

"'Sir!' Mrs. Potts said, horrified. I ran away from them, picking up vases and shattering them on the floor.

"'I'm an animal now!' I shouted. 'I might as well act like one!' I broke everything I could get my hands on until Mrs. Potts grabbed me. I stopped, unwilling to hurt her.

"'Stop it right now!' she shouted, her face red. Anguished, I ran back to my room. I curled myself into a ball and closed my eyes, willing myself into blackness.

"The next day, there was a knock on my door. I flung it open to see Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Bouche, and Babette: the only servants remaining. They all assured me that they would not abandon me, though half of them looked scared out of their wits. I even suspected that Babette only stayed because Lumiere did, but I didn't care. My heart soared to see all of them, and for the first time in my life I felt real gratitude. They continued to operate as usual while I stayed locked up in my room. I became obsessed with the care of my rose; it consumed me. And one day, I discovered something about the mirror the witch had given me. I picked it up to move it and yelled for Mrs. Potts at the same time. Suddenly, the mirror lit up and in it I saw Mrs. Potts bustling down a hallway. I tested it out a few more times and came to the conclusion that I could see anyone in it, so long as I said their name. It became my only link to the outside world."

"How can you break the spell?" I asked curiously. Beast shrugged.

"If it can be done, I don't know how," he said flatly. "I was a terrible person," he continued in agony.

"But you aren't now!" I objected. "That should count! The witch should take the spell back!"

"She can't," he said simply. I sighed.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

"It's no one's fault but my own." He cleared his throat and steadied himself. "But now you know my story."

"Bouche said that the people in the town near here _used_ to know about you, but don't anymore. What did he mean?"

"When I – when it happened, Mrs. Potts came up with a plan. I transferred all of my finances and documents into her name and then … we faked my death. As far as anyone outside knows, I don't exist anymore." He looked into the distance, and my heart surged with pity.

"Don't be sad," I urged him. "We will figure it out. We will break your curse!" He smiled sadly at me.

"I certainly hope so."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: ** Hey guys! (: This chapter is a little short, but I really wanted to update again today. Also, the drama is about to begin and I felt I should cut this off here. The next chapter will be up in the next few days, I promise (as will an update on my OTHER fic!). Thanks to all the readers/reviewers. You guys rock! Thanks to my Betas. Enjoy!

* * *

Mrs. Potts made the decision that all of the decorations should stay up until after the New Year, for which everyone in the household was grateful.

A few days before New Year's Eve, I awoke unusually early in the morning. My stomach began to rumble, so I decided to go ahead and find something for breakfast in the kitchen. I dressed quickly and made my way down the stairs. I didn't see Beast; he was likely still sleeping in his room. When I entered the kitchen, Mrs. Potts was standing over the stove, yawning lightly.

"Oh, Belle," she said with a smile. "I was just making some eggs. Would you like some?"

"Yes, please," I answered with a grin. While she cooked, I poured myself a cup of water from a pitcher and sat down. In the silence that followed, I couldn't help but think of Beast's story, and my curiosity was piqued again.

"Mrs. Potts?"

"Yes, dear?"

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you stay on when Beast – err – when he changed?" She glanced back at me in surprise, but smiled.

"So he's told you!" I nodded. "It's about time. Well, as I'm sure he told you, this place used to be full of staff and servants – it was quite lively until the time of his accident – for lack of a better term. Most of the people working here, however, were just hired to fill the place. Only a few of us really had a connection to the master or his family.

"When I was eighteen, I married a farmer from my town. I can't say that we truly loved each other – it was an arranged marriage. Still, though, we were happy enough, but for one thing. We tried for many years, but I could never conceive a child. Then, just eight years later, my husband died in war. With no family to look after, there was nothing holding me in my hometown. I traveled, looking for work since I had to look after myself from then on out. I lived near Paris, and I thought, what with it being such a big city, I might start looking for work there.

"I came across a very wealthy woman; she was about my age, and she took a liking to me immediately. She told me that she had work available as a governess – a glorified nanny – to her baby. She brought me home that day and I met her husband. She insisted that I was perfect for the job, and he gave his permission. Didn't seem to care either way, if you ask me!

"And then I met her daughter – Elise, the master's mother. She was the most beautiful, special thing I had ever seen. She wasn't quite two years old at the time, and she took to me right away. She grew up closer to me than her own mother, which is common among wealthier families. I loved her as if she was my own, and she loved me – more than her own mother, although you didn't want her mother to hear you say that.

"When Elise was only seventeen, her family had a huge party, and it was there that she met Auguste. He was some up-and-coming businessman; her parents were thrilled when the two seemed to get along. Well, Elise was so beautiful and lovely; Auguste was immediately smitten with her, and she loved the attention. They were married three months later, in the most lavish ceremony I have ever seen.

"I have never before cried tears of joy, but I cried that day. I have to admit, I was a bit sad, too. I figured I'd be out of a job now that she was married and moving out, but Elise put that out of my mind quickly.

"'Oh, Nana!' she cried; Nana was what she had grown up calling me. 'Nana, you must come with me. I couldn't live without you, and I want you to be a nanny for my children, God willing.' So I traveled here with them. Only a year later she found out she was with child, and the young master was born when she was nineteen. I helped her through the pregnancy and the delivery, and then I became his nanny.

"Truth be told, though, there wasn't much for me to do at first. Unlike her mother, Elise was a very hands-on mother. She loved him very much and doted on him all the time. A little too much, in my opinion." Mrs. Potts smiled knowingly. "He was incredibly spoiled.

"And then, of course, they were killed." Mrs. Potts stopped to dump eggs out onto two plates and wipe her eyes. "My poor Elise. And the poor master, as well; left with no parents. I've tried my best to see to him, but he had such an awful temperament when he was younger!" She looked at me and handed me a plate with a smile. "I suppose I should be thanking you!" I blushed sheepishly.

"Despite his attitude, though, I could not abandon him when he changed. He and his mother were like children to me; I won't abandon my children."

"What about Lumiere, Cogsworth … the others?" Mrs. Potts paused.

"I think that Bouche was just old and had no reason to leave." She paused, laughing. "As for Lumiere, he got into some trouble with a very important man once and the master's father helped him out of it. It's a rather – amusing – tale. You'll have to ask him about it."

"I will," I said with a grin, finishing off my eggs.

"I heard my name," came a suave voice from just outside the kitchen. Lumiere and Babette entered, Babette rubbing her eyes with a yawn.

"I was just asking Mrs. Potts why everyone stayed after Beast – uh, transformed."

"I am indebted to his family," Lumiere said with a grin. "His father helped me out of a very tight spot one time when I was younger."

"I haven't heard this story!" Babette exclaimed; Lumiere had the decency to look sheepish.

"That's because you never asked," he said. "But now, you can both hear it.

"Ever since I was a child, I have been cursed with good looks." Mrs. Potts scoffed, but Lumiere ignored her. "My appearance and my devilish charm have made me irresistible to women – alas, I cannot help it!

"I was orphaned as a child; a priest at the church I was left at found me a home in Paris. When I was about twelve, I found jobs running errands for businesses and visiting businessmen.

"The summer of my fifteenth year, as I ran around the streets of Paris delivering letters and such, I saw a beautiful young girl. She had to be seventeen or so, but that made no difference to me. She was very lovely; so of course, I began to talk with her. I cannot help that she fell for me and my charm!

"She took me back to the place she was staying at, and we became – ah, engaged – in an alley outside of the building. Her father caught us.

"How on _earth_ was I supposed to know that her father was a very important, very rich count?

"He screamed at me, 'Get your hands in the air! No, wait, Marie, pull your dress back up first!'" I let out a peal of laughter, but stopped when I saw the reproachful glare Mrs. Potts was giving me.

"He had me out in the street and was screaming at me. I was truly terrified – it wouldn't have been hard for an important man like him to have me killed, no questions asked. There were people walking by, watching with no shame. Then he turned on his daughter.

"'Fraternizing with a street urchin, like some common whore?' he shouted.

"'I hardly think my younger brother is a street urchin,' I heard a confident voice say from behind me. I looked up to see a finely dressed man frowning at the girl's father. When the girl's father wasn't looking, he winked at me.

"'And who are you?' her father demanded.

"'Auguste Laurent,' he said boldly; the other man's jaw dropped.

"'Oh, Monsieur Laurent! I believe we have done business together.' Mr. Laurent led the man away; I don't know what he did, but he convinced him that we were brothers and that I should be allowed to leave in peace.

"'Come, _brother,_' he said once they had returned. He offered me a job working here for him, as a stable career for me and a means of repayment for him. I graciously accepted; when I arrived, the young master was five years old."

"That's a very interesting story," Babette said, pursing her lips.

"And then, of course, a few years later, you arrived," Lumiere said, moving his arm around her waist; she pushed him away playfully.

"Lumiere is the reason I stayed," Babette admitted. "He told me that he wasn't going to leave and abandon the master; I wasn't going to leave Lumiere here."

"Do you – do any of you ever regret the decision to stay?" I asked, fidgeting slightly. All of their reasons had to do with anyone but Beast.

"No," Lumiere and Mrs. Potts said simultaneously.

"I said already; he is like a son to me. While he may have had a bad attitude in the past, I am not one to hold grudges. He has changed so much recently, it is easy to forgive the past."

"I agree," Lumiere said, looking serious for once. "I am proud to work for the man he is now."

"How very heartwarming," Beast said, pushing open the kitchen door. Everyone looked sheepish, but Beast's eyes were light with teasing.

"Whatever your reasons," he began again, moving to stand next to me. "I am – I am eternally grateful that all of you stayed here. I would have died of starvation or boredom years ago were it not for all of you." We all laughed; I moved over so Beast could sit next to me and we all joked as Mrs. Potts prepared more breakfast for everyone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note:** *pops champagne* Hey! :D This fic passed the 7000 view mark today and I am so freaking excited. It might not sound like a lot, but this has become my baby and I get excited when just one new person reads it!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read/review/favorite/follow this story. You guys rock and you make my day!  
Shoutout to Warrior Nun who agrees with me that the movie version of _Beasty_ deserves to be shot.

Thanks to my Betas; you guys are awesome.  
I hope you all enjoy this chapter; the fic is drawing to a close, and the drama is about to begin!

* * *

There wasn't much more to do to prepare for our small party on New Year's Eve. Bouche, Lumiere, and Cogsworth took a trip to the nearby town for food the day before. Beast and I played chess in the den; Babette wandered in around noon. I supposed she was bored without Lumiere to keep her otherwise engaged and giggled to myself. We showed her how to play chess. She kept up a polite interest, but I had the feeling it was feigned. Later that afternoon, the men returned. We all helped them sort out food and I helped Bouche begin preparing food for tomorrow evening.

"I have a confession to make," I said sheepishly the next morning as Beast and I sat in the den, reading.

"What is it?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"When you said we should have a New Year's Eve party and I asked what we would be celebrating … I asked because I thought you had somehow found out that today was my birthday."

"Your birthday!" he exclaimed. I nodded, blushing. "I have to go tell Mrs. Potts!"

"No, please!" I begged. "I don't want a fuss, really. If you must tell her, wait until tonight, when she has no time to do anything." Beast raised an eyebrow at me. "Surely you understand. I don't want her making a fuss and trying to do something special for me. It's just a birthday."

"If that's what you want," he relented with a sigh. "Happy birthday, Belle."

"Thank you," I said, relieved.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one," I answered.

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly.

"Of course," I said, returning to my book with a smile.

* * *

There was a light tap on my door later that afternoon. Quickly I finished pulling on a plain green dress from my wardrobe and opened the door. Babette was outside, looking anxious.

"Belle, can you help me?" she asked.

"What is it?"

"I'm trying to braid some of my hair, but I keep messing it up!" she exclaimed. "Your braids always look so pretty …." I laughed and gestured for her to enter the room. She sat on my bed and showed me how she wanted the braid to look. I set to work quickly, easily fixing her light blonde tresses.

"You have lovely hair," I said with a smile. She grinned in return. Soon, I was done and Babette stood up with a light touch to her hair.

"Thank you!" she said, beaming. Her eyes moved over my dress and she frowned. "Is that what you're going to wear?"

"Yes," I said, feeling self-conscious. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's much too plain, Belle!" Without consulting me further, she flung open my wardrobe and rustled through it.

"Tonight is the beginning of a new year," she said with a smile. "You're a beautiful young girl; you should be turning heads!" I blushed.

"Really, Babette, it's fine," I began, but she cut me off with a gasp.

"This is it!" she exclaimed. "You _have_ to wear this one!" I moved beside her and took in the exquisite gown.

"I couldn't," I said softly, admiring the fancy garment. I gently ran a hand over its silken bodice.

"The master would love it," Babette whispered with a wink. I turned pink, but I knew she was right.

"Fine, I'll wear it," I said, reaching another hand into the wardrobe. "But if I do, you have to wear this!" I pulled out a blood red satin gown and had the satisfaction of hearing Babette gasp. "Imagine the look on Lumiere's face if he saw you in this," I said slyly. Babette and I looked at each other with matching devilish grins and nodded.

We helped each other into the gowns; they were heavier than either of us was used to. We grudgingly put on the petticoats and underskirts that we found with the dresses, but we tossed the corsets aside with looks of disgust. Finally, we were dressed. The deep red of Babette's dress went gorgeously with her pale hair and skin.

I fidgeted nervously with the sleeve of my dress.

"I feel silly," I said, waving my arms in desperation.

"You look amazing!" Babette exclaimed. She drug me by my shoulders to the mirror that hung in my washroom. "Just look at yourself."

I took in my appearance with pursed lips. I had gained a little weight since coming to the mansion, but it only worked to make me look healthy and whole. I thought back to my gaunt appearance the day before I was to wed Gaston and had to smile. Gone was the bruise that the brute had given me; gone were the dark circles under my eyes. My cheeks were pink and my eyes were bright and full of life.

I moved my eyes downward and took in the lovely dress Babette had finagled me into. It was a gorgeous golden color. While Babette's red dress complemented her fair colors, my own dress fit well with my raven hair and slightly tan skin. The neckline of the dress was straight across, leaving some of my shoulders bare. It clung snugly to my upper body before flaring out from my hips.

I smiled slightly as I realized that I was pleased with my appearance. Beyond looking "amazing," as Babette had said, I looked completely different and new. My previous life had no hold over my appearance or my spirit.

Babette was right; tonight was going to be the beginning of a new year – a new life. I just knew it.

Another knock on my door broke me from my reverie.

"Who is it?" I called with a smile.

"Me," Beast answered sheepishly. "Are you ready?" Babette giggled and shook her head at me. I understood; make the boys wait downstairs for us.

"No, not yet," I said off-handedly. "Why don't you just go ahead down and wait for me? I'll be there soon."

"Oh, okay," he said, sounding confused.

"Oh, and if you see Lumiere, tell him not to look for Babette. Just wait downstairs for her."

"If you say so," he said; I could hear a small smile on his face.

"Are you almost ready?" I asked Babette. She straightened her dress in the mirror and nodded at me with a smile. After waiting on my bed for a few minutes – Babette had suggested we make them wait as long as possible – we finally left my room. Babette clasped my hand; she puffed her chest out and raised her chin haughtily.

"Do I look like a rich man's snobby wife?" she asked. We both collapsed in giggles. Eventually, we straightened ourselves out and headed to the grand staircase. Arm in arm, we descended; we saw Bouche walking from the kitchen to the ballroom. He let out a low whistle and a chuckle.

"Mademoiselles," he said. "You both look absolutely stunning; you're just in time, too. I've just moved the last of the food into the ballroom. Allow me to get the door for you." We both curtseyed deeply, almost losing ourselves to laughter again. Bouche pulled open the door and held it for us with one hand, gesturing into the room with the other.

I could see Beast and Cogsworth laughing at something Lumiere was saying; Mrs. Potts spun towards us when she heard the door open and her eyes widened.

"Oh my," she said with a grin. Suddenly, everyone was looking at us, but I only had eyes for Beast.

Babette and I weren't the only ones who had dressed smartly for tonight. Beast had on fine black trousers again. A golden shirt that very nearly matched my dress showed through the blue jacket with golden trim he donned. All of the clothes had been tailored to fit him. He looked nervous, but not uncomfortable. When our eyes met, his jaw dropped; I gave him a sly smile.

"This worked perfectly," Babette whispered delightedly; I saw that even Lumiere looked dumbfounded, his cockiness gone at last. When we reached the men, Babette held out her hand to Lumiere, who stared at it for a few moments before finally realizing that he was supposed to take it.

"Hello, Beast," I said with a shy smile. Now that Babette was occupied, I began to feel unsure of myself.

"Uh, Belle – you – wow, I mean you – um –"  
Beast's stammering made my confidence rise slightly, and i gave him a reassuring smile.

"You look beautiful," he finally managed to say.

"You look quite handsome yourself," I complimented.

"It is slightly strange to wear such clothing again," he admitted. "But I must say – it is not unpleasant."

Everyone snacked on the food Bouche had prepared. Mrs. Potts poured champagne, passing over me, and conversation was cheery and easy. It was long past ten o'clock, though I did not know the exact time. Beast and I stayed close to one another, our arms brushing occasionally and sending electricity coursing through my body.

Tonight had such potential; my stomach flipped around at the thought of it. I thought of the tradition of kissing a special person at midnight and immediately turned scarlet. As Beast talked to Lumiere, I watched his mouth; it looked no different than mine. Soon I lost myself to thoughts of kissing him, my blush deepening by the second.

"Oh, go on!" I heard Mrs. Potts exclaiming. I looked towards her, relieved that something had broken through my thoughts.

"Oh, I couldn't," Cogsworth said modestly.

"Couldn't do what?" I queried.

"Cogsworth is an excellent violin player," Mrs. Potts raved; Cogsworth turned scarlet.

"Oh, Cogsworth, please play!" I exclaimed ecstatically.

"That would be nice," Beast said softly. Cogsworth gave us all a small smile and left to get his violin. When he returned, we all listened joyfully as he began to play a soft romantic tune. Lumiere and Babette began to sway slightly in time with the beat.

"Belle?" Beast whispered in my ear. I looked at him, smiling. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Oh, I don't know how," I stammered, blushing.

"It's easy," he insisted. He pouted his lip out, silently pleading. I sighed and gave in.

"If I step on you, it's your own fault," I teased.

"I'll take that chance," he said with a broad grin. He took my hand and placed it on his shoulder; he placed his on my waist. He took my other hand in his and we began to slowly spin on the ballroom floor. I was easily able to keep up with Beast, which made me assume we weren't truly dancing the way he knew how to. I didn't mind, though; I loved being in his arms as we twirled our way across the floor.

"It will be midnight soon," I noted with a small yawn.

"Tired already?" Beast raised a brow at me.

"Not at all," I maintained, yawning again. "I'll be fine." After a while longer of dancing, Beast stopped suddenly. He looked at me intensely.

"Belle, could we…talk for a moment?"

"We are talking," I joked.

"In private, I mean." It took a moment before I could feel my heart beating again; my voice caught in my throat but I finally managed to stammer my assent. Beast gently took my arm and led me to the windowed wall of the ballroom. He opened a door I had not noticed in the glass and gestured for me to walk outside. There was a ledge surrounded by railing that led to a benched balcony. It was far down enough that the windows would not show us to the people in the ballroom; we had complete privacy.

I sat down and Beast seated himself across from me. I shivered slightly in the cool night air; stars twinkled overhead and the moon illuminated us in pale, silvery light.

"It is beautiful," I commented, looking at the moon.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he breathed. I waited for embarrassment or a surge of blush to my cheeks, but neither came. His sincerity did not fluster me; rather, it seemed to give me a new sense of confidence.

"First, I would like to give you your birthday present," he said with a smile.

"Oh, Beast, you didn't!" I exclaimed. "I told you –"

"You said you didn't want a fuss. This is hardly a fuss; I'm still the only one who knows. However, it _is_ your birthday; please let me give you something?"

"Fine," I relented. "But if it is outrageous, I'll refuse it."

"I hope you won't," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. Tenderly he pulled something out and placed it in my hand. I could feel that it was cold; it felt like jewelry. I held it up against the moonlight and saw that it was a delicate silver necklace: an oval locket with a sparkling sapphire set in the middle. My jaw dropped.

"Oh, Beast, this is too much," I said. "I can't accept this."

"Please," he begged, his eyes bearing into mine. "I – I want you very much to have this. It was my mother's. Please, keep it – for me." Trembling slightly, I nodded and reached around to clasp the necklace around my neck.

"It's beautiful," I said with a smile. "Thank you." Beast didn't respond, but stared at me for a moment.

Eventually, he took my hands in his paws.

"Belle, I need to tell you something important." I tried to answer, but found that I could only nod. "I – Belle, I want to give you your freedom." I blinked, trying to make sense of his words.

"My – freedom?" I repeated. Dismay washed over me. "You wish me to leave?" Beast's face twisted in anxiety.

"No, no! You misunderstand me. I am giving you your freedom. I am removing the debt from you; you no longer are my servant. I do not want you to stay here anymore unless it is what _you_ wish." I stared into his electric blue eyes in disbelief.

"What about the debt – the money that my father owes you?"

"What need have I for money?" he asked. "I used to spend my life relishing in my vast fortune and good looks, and for what? Take my money; I do not want or need it. Wealth, looks – none of that matters. You, Belle –" my heart stopped beating "- _you _are what matters to me. I will not force you to stay here, though I must confess that I _want_ you to remain."

My head spun slightly. Beast was giving me my freedom – he was giving me the choice to stay with him or return to my old life.

In what seemed like less than a second, my choice was clear.

"I am not going anywhere," I whispered. We had unconsciously leaned towards each other as we spoke. Nervously, his paw moved to touch my shoulder, my hair, my face. I did not realize that we were moving, but we must have been; suddenly our faces were inches from each other. I thought of my internal struggle from earlier; what would it feel like to kiss him?

I could feel his warm, sweet breath on my lips when there was a piercing scream from the ballroom. We leapt apart, heads spinning towards the door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: **Hey guys! I am very sorry about the shortness of this chapter, but the story is wrapping up soon and I would like there to be some separation. You should expect two to three more chapters.  
In response to a PM I got: No, Beast was not lying. In my story, he is not a prince, just the child of extremely wealthy and influential people. (: Hope that clear everything up.  
Again, thank you to my Betas! Thanks to everyone who has read or reviewed, followed or favorited. My baby is almost grown up! :')

* * *

"What was that?" I asked, lip quivering.

"I don't know," Beast answered. He took my hand and we hurried back down the ledge and to the windowed wall. The ballroom was deserted.

"Where is everyone?" My voice raised in pitch out of anxiety. Beast threw the door open without answering. We ran together across the wide ballroom and into the foyer.

I let out a gasp as we entered the foyer. Mrs. Potts and Babette were huddled together, looks of fright upon their faces. I could see Lumiere and Bouche wrestling with a tall man who was throwing dishes at the ground. An angel statue was on the ground, its wing broken off. There was shattered glass and china everywhere; the floor was littered with dust from the broken objects. Beast let out a roar.

"What is going on?" he shouted.

"Master, he just barged in," Lumiere responded, twisting the man's arm around. He let out a yelp, and my heart sank. I knew his voice.

"No," I whispered. Beast shot me a concerned look. I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry. "Papa?" I asked loudly. I hoped beyond reason that I had misheard his voice; in my

heart, though, I knew who he was. The man spun around and gave me a drunken grin.

"Belle!" he shouted. I walked to him reluctantly.

"Papa, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Why, looking for you of course," he said stupidly. I groaned. His smile faded and he clutched at my dress urgently. "I need you," he moaned. "I should never have left you. Please come home. I need you! I can't do anything without you!" My eyes widened in horror. I spun to Mrs. Potts desperately; she rushed to me.

"Let's get you in the bed," she said, helping me stand my father up.

"Please," he said, grabbing at my dress.

"Papa, stop," I pleaded. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, Papa, just please let go of me." I shifted uncomfortably, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

"Belle, please come home! If you don't come home, I'll die, and it will be your fault!" he shouted, pulling harder at my dress. I flinched away from him and heard my gown rip at the bottom.

"Damn you!" I shouted at him. He gave me a wounded look and let go of the dress. His eyes shut suddenly and I realized he had passed out. Mrs. Potts had Bouche, Lumiere, and Cogsworth carry him up the stairs.

"I loved this dress," I said, trying to stay calm. Beast was at my side in a second.

"It's okay," he muttered. "We can get it fixed, or I can buy you a new one."

"I wanted this one!" I snapped hysterically. He stared at me, and tears began to fall from my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I just…. He isn't supposed to be here. He's going to ruin everything."

"No," he argued. "Everything will be okay. He'll sleep this off, and we'll send him home in the morning." I gave him a pained expression, unable to keep myself from weeping. "Calm down, Belle," he murmured.

"You don't understand," I wailed, pushing him away. "I'm his daughter. He…he needs me. He can't take care of himself; he'll die without me, he said so himself. If he dies because I didn't come with him, I don't know what I'll do. He needs me."

Beast stared at me. I saw pain flash across his face for one instant before he composed himself. He cleared his throat loudly; he seemed to be steadying himself.

"Then you must go with him," he declared. I let out a small gasp.

"You would let me go?" I asked softly. He nodded.

"Belle, I just told you that I didn't want to force you to stay here. Did you think I was being dishonest?" His face twisted in pain. I swallowed and shook my head.

"Of course not," I replied. "I just…. Thank you." I threw my arms around him in an embrace. He froze for a moment before gently wrapping his enormous limbs around my back. "Oh Beast," I exclaimed; my throat felt tight. While Beast held me, my resolve faded. I didn't want to go with Papa; I wanted to stay here with Beast. His mansion had become more of a home to me than I had ever had with my father. I pulled away, struggling to keep my expression calm.

"Ask me to stay," I whispered. "If you ask me to stay…I will stay." Beast shook his head forlornly. "Please," I said, almost begging. "Don't you want me to stay? Don't you care about me?" He looked at me dejectedly and pulled me into his arms again.

"Oh, Belle," he murmured. "That's exactly why I can't ask you to stay."

Something inside of me snapped and noisy sobs began to rack my body. I flung my arms around his neck and cried freely onto his shirt. After a few minutes, he scooped me up in one swift motion and began to carry me up the staircase towards my room. He set me gently on my bed where I curled my knees up to my chest. He sat beside me for a few moments, unsure of what to do, before he stood up and made to leave.

"No," I cried in a strangled voice. "Please," I added almost inaudibly. I weakly held my hand out towards him. He only hesitated for a second before sitting beside me again. I slumped against him as he wrapped both arms around me. This was the closest we had ever been, but any excitement and feelings I might have had for the embrace were completely overrun by my misery.

My father had successfully ruined every good thing in my life; he was tearing me away from the person I cared most about in the world. Anger and despair washed over me as I cried into Beast's grip.

Eventually my sobs quieted. Between Beast's chest rising and falling and his methodical stroking of my hair, I found myself being lulled into sleep. I fought it for a while; this would be the last time I was guaranteed any time with Beast.

"I'll come back," I said aloud. Beast didn't respond, but continued to play with a strand of my hair. "I won't stay long. I'll – I'll come back."

I would just have to come back. Then we could be together. I would get my father settled in, and then I would return. I just hoped that Beast would be waiting for me.

I heard Beast mutter something, but I couldn't quite focus enough to make out his words.

"What?" I asked quietly. I looked up to see Beast staring out of my window into the night sky. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated.

"I said I – nevermind. It wasn't important."

I frowned, but I was too exhausted to argue with him. Wondering vaguely what he had said, I fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

When I awoke, the sun was gently beating through my window. Beast was gone.

At the foot of my bed lay his mirror and a scrap of parchment folded over. Numbly I unfolded the paper; untidy scrawl in dark ink covered the paper.

'Belle,

I am not one for goodbyes. I hope you'll forgive me

for not giving you this in person, but I just can't do it.

Take this mirror with you so you can always look back,

should you ever wish to.

Sincerely,

Yours truly,

Forever yours,

Beast

It took every ounce of willpower left in my body to stay standing upright. Hands trembling slightly, I quickly pulled on the dress I had come to the mansion in and tucked the paper and Beast's mirror into a deep side pocket.

There was a gentle knock at my door. When I opened it, Mrs. Potts gave me a weak smile.

"I thought you might like to speak with your father," she said softly. I nodded, slightly dazed. She led me down the hall to another bedroom; at the door, she gave my hand a small squeeze before walking away.

After taking a deep breath I entered the room; Papa was beginning to stir.

"Hello, Papa," I said loudly; he jolted from his sleep and sat up.

"Belle," he said softly when he noticed me. I didn't respond but glared at him. He wavered under my harsh look but quickly fell into what must have been his rehearsed speech. "Belle, I've fallen apart while you've been gone," he said desperately. "I need you. I took you for granted before, and I'm sorry for that. Please, Belle, come home with me." I sighed.

"I am," I said softly. He sighed in relief. "But not for long," I added hastily. "You can't depend on me forever. I'm not giving up my happiness for you."

"Happiness?" he asked incredulously. "You're happy being captive to a beast?" He scoffed at me.

"I'm not a captive," I said defiantly, crossing my arms.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Beast…he…" I stopped, flustered. "He gave me the choice to leave or stay. I chose to stay."

"What is wrong with you?" Papa hissed. "You could have come home?"

"This is my home," I spat. "It's more of a home than I've ever had with you!"

"You will not speak to me that way!" he shouted, his face purple. "Gather your things. We're leaving."

"I'm going with you because I have to," I said, holding my chin high. "But I am coming back here after you are settled in." I turned on my heel. As soon as I was out of his room, my bravado faltered. I knew that it would not be easy for me to leave my father as long as he needed me, and I knew that Papa would need me until he died. I let out a choked sob, but refused to let myself cry anymore.

I did not want to go, but I had to. He was my father; I could not abandon him, despite every horrible thing he had ever done to me.

I didn't return to my room; I had brought nothing with me and I would take nothing when I left. I hovered near Beast's room for a while, but eventually headed to the foyer, accepting the fact that he was not coming.

Mrs. Potts was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

"I told the master that you would be leaving within thirty minutes," she said. I tried not to laugh at the hopeful tone of her voice. I paced the floor, waiting for Papa to come downstairs; I tried to keep the nausea I was feeling from taking over. Lumiere passed by and gave me a small wave before bustling on his way. "Everyone is to go about their normal routine," she said, seeing Lumiere. "I didn't think you would want a big goodbye." I didn't answer, but nodded gratefully. It would be easier if Papa and I just left. Finally he came down; he was somehow ignoring the daggers Mrs. Potts was staring at him.

"Come, Belle," he commanded from the doorway. I gazed longingly up the stairs, hoping beyond sanity that Beast would come bounding down them to say goodbye. I sighed and turned away.

Once outside, we mounted the horse that Papa had ridden here on. My breathing was shallow as I struggled not to fall apart with Papa here. We raced away from the mansion, from Beast, from my true home. I willed myself not to cry. I didn't cry when we entered the woods. I didn't cry, not even when I heard a thundering, heart-breaking roar from behind us. I steeled myself against Papa, dry-eyed and silent as my heart began to break.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: **Hello again guys! Just two chapters left after this!  
Thanks to my Betas, and thanks again to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited this story. I hope that you all enjoy the up-coming conclusion of my story - my baby!

(: Jonnilyne

* * *

The trip seemed much shorter than I thought it would be; perhaps it was because I was dreading our arrival. I dismounted the horse and entered my old house; the sight inside made me cry out in anguish. There were broken dishes all over the floor, the kitchen was full of old food and more dirty dishes, and the floor and tables were covered in bottles of alcohol. Dirty clothing was scattered around everywhere.

"I'll clean tomorrow," I said, dashing into my room. It appeared to be the only room that Papa hadn't touched. I flung myself face first onto my bed and lay there numbly. For two hours, I didn't move a muscle. I couldn't sleep, and didn't really want to; I was afraid of what I might dream of if I slept. I slipped under the blanket, but found that I was still cold. I pulled two more blankets onto my bed, but nothing could warm me. I vaguely wondered if I would ever feel warm again.

I lay on my bed in a catatonic state, unmoving but unable to sleep. After what seemed like minutes, sunlight shone through my window and I scoffed bitterly. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the living room. Papa was passed out in his chair, snoring softly with a bottle tucked in his hand.

Mindlessly I began to clean the disgusting house. Papa woke up sometime during my work and stood in the doorway, watching me silently. I cleaned all day while Papa went to the tavern for more booze.

'After the house is clean, I'll leave,' I kept telling myself. A small part of me knew it wasn't true, though. I would stay as long as Papa needed me to. When the entire kitchen was scrubbed sparkling clean, I went to my room and lay on my bed. For another night, sleep evaded me. I heard Papa stumble in, but I didn't get up to check on him.

For the next week, this was our routine. Papa ate, I assumed, at the tavern; I only drank water. I cleaned all day while Papa drank, and at night I tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. Each morning it was little harder for me to get up; each day I got a little less cleaning done. I cleaned my way through the house only to find that Papa had dirtied the rooms I had already cleaned.

We moved into a seemingly endless cycle; I straightened up after Papa while he messed up what I had cleaned. One night I had finally fallen into unconsciousness in my bed when Papa staggered in from the tavern, breaking a vase on his path to the armchair. I let out a cry of frustration and turned over, but sleep never came again.

As I lay awake in misery, a seemingly distant memory floated to the front of my brain.

_'Why can't you stand up to your father?'_

Beast had asked me that question the very first night we ate dinner together.

_'Why can't you stand up….'_

_'Why can't you…?'_

"Why can't I?" I whispered to no one.

I stopped keeping track of time. I guessed I had been home about a month now. I rarely ate, and I avoided mirrors when at all possible. I saw my reflection in passing one day and shuddered. My eyes were underlined with purple bruise-like shadows and my face was thin and shrunken in. I noticed my clothes becoming too big for me.

Every day I fell more and more into despair as I realized that I could no longer keep up with Papa's destruction. I wasn't sure if he was making more of a mess or if I was just unable to clean as much. I felt myself growing weaker every day; I felt like I was simply fading away.

Occasionally, when my father was home, he would give me sympathetic looks or try to coax me into eating, but that didn't make me any less angry at him. The only thing my father's concern told me was that while he felt bad about forcing me to come home, his selfishness still won out. Papa might feel bad that I was miserable, but it wasn't enough for him to let me leave.

One evening, Papa stumbled in around midnight and began to call for me from the living room. I shut my eyes, hoping he would give up; after almost ten minutes of him pitifully calling my name, I dragged myself out of the bed. Papa was sitting on the floor in front of the door, grinning stupidly.

"I can't get up," he said with a giggle. Sighing, I moved towards him, bent over, and hooked my arms under his. "Thank you," he said, trying to grasp the front of my dress.

"Stop," I snapped as the grabbed drunkenly at my neck and shoulders. I heaved him to his feet, but he lost his balance; attempting to stay upright, he grabbed at me and his finger wrapped around my necklace – the beautiful locket Beast had given me. The thin chain snapped as he tumbled backwards. A knot tightened in my chest, and something snapped in me. I began to shout at my father.

"Damn you!" I shrieked. "You are so worthless! I don't know why I came back with you; all you do is ruin my life! You've ruined everything!" Papa gave me a pained expression.

"Belle," he began, but I cut him off with an enraged scream. After snatching up the broken necklace from the ground, I ran to my room and slammed the door behind me. Fury and pain seeped from me, and I began to destroy my room. I knocked over my small bookshelf, scattering the books on the floor. I picked up an empty vase and threw it at my mirror; they both shattered. I yanked the drawers from my dresser, spilling clothes across the room. I was throwing and smashing anything I could get my hands on. Suddenly, I stopped as I realized that my raised arm was poised to smash Beast's mirror. I stood, my chest heaving, in front of my bed. I clutched my face in my hands, horrified by my actions and exhausted.

I slowly slipped onto the bed and lay quietly. Regret consumed me; I felt nothing but hatred towards my father at that moment. I shouldn't have come back with him. I should have picked my own happiness. I clutched my pillow and shut my eyes, hoping beyond hope for sleep to come; it never did. I picked up Beast's mirror again and looked at it for a moment, thinking.

If I looked at him in the mirror, I would see one of two things. Beast would either be as miserable as I was about the separation or he would be moving on with his life, completely unfazed. I wasn't sure which would be harder to bear. I had to know, though.

I tightened my grip around the mirror's handle and sat up on my bed.

"Umm." I paused, licking my lips. "Show me Beast – please."

There was a small flash of light from the mirror; I squeezed my eyes tightly. When I opened them again, I gasped; there was Beast. He was sitting in his room and speaking to someone not in view.

"Leave me alone," he said lifelessly. There was no fervor to his refusal; his eyes seemed dulled over and he radiated apathy.

"You have to eat!" I heard Mrs. Potts say.

"I don't want to," he muttered. "Just go."

A tear slid from my eye. Had I really thought that Beast would be handling this any better than I was? I was watching the scene before me with such intensity that I did not hear my door open slowly.

"Wha-what the hell is that?" I jumped as I heard Papa speak.

"Nothing," I said quickly, flinging the mirror onto the bed. Papa hurried and picked it up to see Beast as I just had.

He set it back down and glared at me with bloodshot eyes.

"I do not know what your obsession is with that _animal_, but get over it!" he roared. "You are _my _daughter! You have an obligation to _me_! Do you understand me? Your mother would be ashamed of your behavior!" I gasped and leapt from my bed.

"The only thing she would be ashamed of is _you_!" I spat acidly. "Now get out!"

He stormed out of the room, leaving me alone.

His remark about my mother stung. I fell backwards onto my bed as a repressed memory came to the front of my mind.

* * *

"Belle! Belle, get in here!" I jumped off of my bed and skipped to the living room where my father struggled to stand upright, a bottle clutched in his hand.

"Yes, Papa?" I asked, pushing my hair behind my ears with a smile.

"Why didn't you clean in here?" he demanded, giving me a glare that made my lip quiver.

"I did Papa, earlier, like you told me to!"

"Oh, really?" he asked, gesturing to a broken plate and a spilt liquid on the floor.

"Papa, that wasn't there when I cleaned earlier!" I defended myself, my voice raising in pitch. I wrung my fingers together as my father towered over my small thirteen year old self.

"What would your mother say if she heard you talking back to your father?" he asked with a sneer. I gasped; it had only been a few months since my mother had passed. How could Papa bring it up so flippantly?

"I – I'm sorry Papa," I said, trying not to cry.

"Sometimes sorry isn't good enough," he said, stumbling towards his chair. "Clean it up, and you're not to go anywhere for the next two days."

"Bu-but Papa, I was going to get another book from the shop! The man who works there is very nice; he lets me borrow the books and then bring them back. Please, Papa!"

"This discussion is over!" he shouted, falling into his chair.

I cried silently as I cleaned, but maybe Papa was right. Mother would want me to obey him. I shouldn't do anything to make mother be ashamed of me.

* * *

I shook my head as I thought of that day. I had been so young and naïve.

"I have to leave," I whispered to myself.

Why had I been so blind? My father had used guilt to make me feel responsible for him for years. He had drilled the desire to please him into me as soon as my mother had died; for years, I had obeyed blindly. Now, though, I was suffering because of it.

This was all Papa's fault. Anger flowed through my body like poison. Suddenly, though, I had the feeling that I was angry at the wrong person.

I slumped backwards as I thought about how pathetic I was. This was entirely my own fault.

During my stay at Beast's mansion, he had made an unbelievable change. I, however, had stayed the same. I was still unable to stand up to my father, as Beast had pointed out the first night we ate dinner together. My inability to do so had cost me the person I cared most about. The blame lay with me.

I should have refused to come back with Papa. I should have chosen Beast.

I turned my head to look at the mirror that hung over my dresser only to remember, sheepishly, that I had just destroyed it. I knew how I must look, though. I thought back to New Year's Eve and how happy, healthy, and lovely I had looked. I wanted _that_ Belle back. The only way to get her back was to leave this place.

I strengthened my resolve; I had to return to Beast's mansion. I vowed that I would only stay with Papa for one more week; after that, I was taking control of my own life.

Mollified, I turned over and stared out of the window until the sun rose.

* * *

I rose the next day with a slight spring in my step as I prepared myself to tell Papa that I was leaving. I cleaned lightly through the house while Papa was out.

Then, while I was washing dishes, my head began to spin. I stopped, steadying myself, but my body was beginning to give out from exhaustion and a lack of nourishment. I tried to go back to my room, but I became extremely dizzy and lost my footing; I fell forward and hit my head on the table. I blacked out instantly and began to dream.

* * *

I stumbled through the forest, tripping over tree roots and rocks. I wasn't sure where I was going; I only knew that I had to press on quickly. When I saw a small river, I remembered where my path was taking me. Gleefully I crossed the river, hurrying to be with Beast.

"I'm coming home," I said, my voice dulled in my dream. "I'm coming home, Beast."

I could only hope that he would forgive me for my mistakes.

I stopped short when I saw an eerily-lit clearing. Something was lying there in a pool of blood; I furrowed my brow and stepped closer, expecting to see my father's horse that had died so long ago.

Moonlight illuminated the pale but beautiful face of my mother. I screamed and nearly fell backwards. I ran around her lifeless body as tears began to fall down my face. As I ran, I tried to tell myself that it wasn't real – my mother had died years ago, and certainly not in the forest. The iron gate surrounding Beast's mansion came into my view and I began to sprint.

"Beast!" I shouted as I pounded on the front door. The massive door swung open, revealing a handsome brunette man sneering at me. Was this my Beast? Had he become human again?

"Get out," he snarled. "You left me."

"No!" I protested, falling to the ground. "I'm back! I've come back!"

"You're too late, Belle," he said coldly. My name seemed to echo all around us.

"Belle…Belle…Belle…."

* * *

"Belle!" It was my father; I didn't respond.

"Good God, Maurice!" came another voice. It was familiar, and my eyes shot open in horror. Gaston's face hovered inches above mine. "She's awake!" he shouted. They both helped me up from the floor gingerly. I could see through the window that it was completely dark outside.

"Watch the blood," Papa said. I instinctively reached up and touched my head; my hand came away red.

"Oh," I moaned, trying not to be sick. "What is Gaston doing here?"

"I decided to bring him home," my father slurred. "I thought it was time you two got back together. I'm tired of your moping around."

"Tell me what the hell is going on!" Gaston thundered. "You told me Belle was dead!" He glared accusingly at Papa, who looked uncomfortably at me.

"That's not exactly the truth," he admitted. I fidgeted uneasily. I had hoped that by hiding in my house, I would avoid this confrontation.

"Clearly," Gaston spat sarcastically.

"You tell him," I snapped, gingerly holding my head. Papa launched into an explanation of how he had become lost in the woods and come across a mansion that was home to a beast.

"A beast?" Gaston interrupted with a scoff. Papa glared at him, and I nodded.

"There was a beast," I said softly. Papa continued on with his tale. When he reached the part where I took his place as Beast's captive, Gaston let out a snarl.

"You mean you could have come back to me, yet you stayed?" He towered over me, enraged. I gulped, thinking of how easily I had stood up to Beast. I knew, however, that Beast would never hurt me; Gaston terrified me because I knew that in an instant he would.

"I had to save my father," I was finally able to stammer. He simply glared at me as Papa continued to speak. When he finished, Gaston's brow was furrowed.

"Assuming I believe that there was a beast," he said slowly. "Why on earth would he just let you go?"

"I wasn't a prisoner," I snapped before I could stop myself. I flushed as Gaston turned puce.

"You said he was holding you captive," he said, a glint in his eyes.

"He let her go!" my father chimed in. "He gave her freedom long before I came and made her leave." I gasped and gave him a desperate look.

"Papa!" I exclaimed. Gaston grabbed my wrist and squeezed it tightly, making me yelp.

"You mean to tell me," he whispered dangerously through clenched teeth. "That this beast offered you the chance to leave and you _stayed_?" I tried to yank my arm away, but Gaston was too strong; he began to twist it, making tears spring to my eyes.

"Gaston, stop!" I shouted in pain.

"Now see here, Gaston," my father began.

"Shut up, Maurice!" Gaston yelled, and Papa wilted. "Tell me why you stayed!" he demanded.

"To get away from you!" I screamed. My wrist twisted again in response; I shrieked.

"What, was I not good enough for you?" Gaston continued, his red face inches from mine. He was trying to break me, physically and mentally, but I wasn't going to give in. Gaston would have to kill me before I would let him beat me; I shuddered as I realized he probably would do just that.

"You're a monster," I said, gritting my teeth. "You're cruel, arrogant, and completely horrible! That beast in the mansion? He was more of a man than you will ever be!" Gaston pulled my arm up and slapped me across the face.

"Gaston, stop this madness!" Papa shouted.

"It sounds to me like you had feelings for this animal," Gaston said, ignoring Papa. Tears streamed down my face and I didn't respond. "Answer me!" he said with another strike to my face. I felt my lip bust and tasted blood.

"Yes, I did," I whimpered. He began to shake me, furious.

"I'm not good enough, but a beast is?" he demanded. My head was beginning to spin from pain. I shut my eyes, hoping I could just black out. "You're as crazy and pathetic as your father," he spat. Papa sputtered in protest and tried to pull Gaston away from me. Gaston let out a roar of laughter. "There probably isn't even a beast," he exclaimed, shaking Papa away easily. "You're both just loons!"

"There is a beast!" Papa shouted. "I am not crazy!" My eyes shot open and I gave Papa a panicked look. I didn't want Gaston to know any more about Beast. "I can show him to you! She has this – this mirror, and somehow it's magical – you can see him in it!"

"Papa!" I shouted in despair. Gaston's eyes widened. He looked from Papa to me and back again; he seemed to be deciding whether or not to believe us.

"A magic mirror?" he scoffed. "Show me," he challenged.

"No!" I screamed, but Gaston held me in my seat while Papa went to my room. I hadn't hidden the mirror – I hadn't thought I had a reason to – so it wasn't very long before Papa returned with it.

"Show us the beast," Papa breathed; again, the traitor mirror flashed and showed Beast. He was in _my_ room this time, standing still with his paws clasped behind his back. He began to pace slowly back and forth.

I heard Gaston exhale; he let go of me for once to cradle his face in his hands and think.

"He lives in the forest?" Papa nodded.

"And how would I get there?" he asked. I could see the gears turning in his head, the plot beginning to form.

"It's almost a straight shot from here, if you cut diagonally instead of taking the path to  
Roux."

"Papa!" I shrieked. "Shut your mouth!" Gaston reclaimed my wrist and I moaned.

"Now Belle, you shouldn't speak to your father that way," Gaston said with a smirk. "It isn't fair of you to not let me meet this _amazing_ beast. I think I should pay him a visit and see what it is about him that you like so much." Terror settled in my chest and I gaped at him.

"Please, no," I begged. He sneered triumphantly at me.

"I simply must find out what makes him so special," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "I mean, you passed up the opportunity to marry _me_." He frowned at me in mock concern. "Actually, Belle, something about this bothers me. A huge, snarling beast lives very close to this town. He could very easily lose his temper and try to reclaim you; what if he hurt someone in the process?" My heart skipped a beat. "I don't feel comfortable leaving him free to roam so close to my home!"

"Gaston, please don't do this." My pleading became frantic. "He hasn't done anything to you; don't do anything rash. Just leave him alone."

"I could be persuaded to let this monster live in peace," he said lightly. My stomach churned. "We tell everyone that you were held captive – _completely_ against your will – and that you escaped. We'll marry in the morning, and you will not complain once." He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face close to his. His angry eyes glared into mine and I let out a whimper.

Why had I chosen to come back with Papa? At Beast's mansion, I had everything I could ever need or want; once again, it was all about to be ripped from me. If I agreed to marry Gaston, my life would effectively be over. Before, I had been miserable at the thought of marrying him; now, that misery would be tenfold because I had experienced true happiness with Beast. Now, I knew of the affection I would be losing by being Gaston's wife.

On the other hand, if I didn't agree…. Gaston would go to Beast's mansion. To Gaston, Beast was just another animal to hunt. I grew nauseated as I imagined Gaston taking his gun. I knew Beast would fight back, but he was not the bloodthirsty, malicious, vile savage that Gaston was. Gaston would have no qualms in ending Beast's life. At that thought, a tear leaked from my eye. Either way I chose, Gaston had to win. Either way I chose, I would be without Beast for the rest of my life.

I couldn't live my life knowing that I had been responsible for his death, though; I knew I had to marry Gaston.

"Time's up," Gaston spat through clenched teeth. He twisted my wrist again before pushing me away from him. "You took too long to decide, Belle."

"No!" I shouted. "I'll marry you!" I heard Papa breathe a sigh of relief and felt another wave of nausea hit me. After everything that had happened, Papa still wanted me to marry this monster.

"I will not play second fiddle to an animal!" Gaston snarled, moving towards our door. He paused and turned back to me. He grabbed my wrist again and pulled me outside. "You should have begged me on your knees for forgiveness," he spat. "You should have jumped at the chance to marry me! Now you'll pay the price."


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: **Hey guys! A real quick thanks to my Betas, and to everyone who has taken time out of their day to read this story. It's all written now; there will be one more chapter after this one. I hope everyone is satisfied with the conclusion!

* * *

Terror struck me as we walked into the town.

"Where are we going?" I breathed; I wasn't surprised when no response came. Gaston stalked towards the tavern and my heart sank.

He burst through the door and threw me forward so that I fell to the ground; I landed on in a heap.

More than half of the small town seemed to be in the tavern tonight; as I fell, the roar of chatter and laughter died away. I could feel everyone's curious gazes on me. After a moment of stunned silence, I heard the murmuring begin.

" Maurice's daughter –"

" – dead!"

" – what's her name again, Be…"

"I have discovered a problem!" Gaston roared, spreading his arms to everyone gathered in the tavern. "This woman –" he pointed to me while I hung my head in despair. "This woman and her father have led us all to believe that she was dead. Instead, she has been doing something terrible – something that has sentenced us all to death!" I shook my head and looked desperately at the people that had begun to crowd around us. "Do any of you know what inhabits the forest, just hours from our quiet little village?" No one responded; everyone seemed to be holding their breath in confusion and trepidation.

Gaston flipped the mirror still clutched in his left hand around so that the reflective side faced our audience.

"Show them the Beast!" Gaston commanded with a wicked smile. There was a small flash of light and then –

"What on earth?" someone from the crowd roared. Everyone surged forward to see the image in the mirror.

My heart clenched as I looked up to see Beast, now in his room. We all watched as he walked toward the rose's vase. He surveyed it sadly for a moment before his face twisted in agony; he lunged at the bed in the middle of his room with a roar and began to tear apart one of the already-mangled bedposts. I felt my heart break again and let out a small sob. What had I done to Beast?

Two women in the crowd shrieked and there was an outburst of questions.  
"Is he dangerous?"

"No –" I began, but Gaston cut me off.

"Absolutely!"

"What the hell is going on, Gaston?" someone demanded. Gaston held up his hands for silence. He briefly told the tale of how I had come to stay with Beast, but he twisted the truth.

"Belle thinks that she's too good for the people of this town," he said with a glare. "She chose to stay with this monster."

"Crazy!" someone shouted; Gaston nodded in agreement.

"She must be," he said with a smirk. "Now that her father forced her to come back here to marry me, the Beast is angry! Apparently Belle makes good company for monsters. He is coming here to get her back!" There were more shrieks and shouts of outrage.

"No!" I yelled. "He isn't coming, he won't –"

"Shut up!" Gaston said, giving me a kick. A tear escaped my eye. I looked up at the crowd in desperation; someone had to be sympathetic. Someone had to think that this was a ridiculous idea. "He _is_ coming, and do you think he'll stop at taking this girl back?"

"No!" someone responded. The crowd murmured.

"No, he won't!" Gaston said with an evil grin. "I'm sure he'll blame us for her return. He'll kill us!"

"No he won't!" I screamed hysterically. "He's kind, and gentle – he's not a monster! He's practically human!"

"Animals aren't human!" he shouted, waving his arms wildly. "I've hunted wild animals, probably more than anyone here! I've seen what they can do. This beast will murder us in our beds and drink our blood! He'll take off with your children!"

"He would never!" I shouted.

"We're going to beat the monster to the punch!" Gaston roared as if I hadn't spoken. "We're going to go into the forest, find him, and kill him!"

"No!" I screamed, but my protests were drowned out by the shouts of acclamation around me. I pulled myself to my feet as the men in the tavern began to gather around Gaston. I clutched at a nearby woman, nearly hysteric.

"He isn't coming!" I shouted; the woman yelped and pushed me away. I turned around, looking for someone – anyone – who would listen. "Please!" I shouted desperately, but no one paid me any notice.

When Gaston was occupied, I made a dash for the tavern door. I could go ahead of them and warn Beast, and then –

"There she is!" came a deep shout. Gaston turned and caught my arms easily.

"No you don't," he whispered dangerously into my ear. "You get into all sorts of trouble whenever I let you out of my sight." I struggled in vain for a few moments before giving in. After a short period of time in which the men gathered weapons – I nearly fainted at the sight – we exited the tavern. The men that were going began to saddle their horses; I was surprised at the amount of men who had chosen to stay behind.

"It's just….very unbelievable," one man said uncomfortably to Gaston. Though Gaston clenched his teeth, he didn't argue with the nonbelievers. My heart soared; maybe there wouldn't be enough people that believed Gaston to do any damage.

Gaston pushed me roughly onto his horse and hopped on behind me.

"Now we just wait for our guide," he muttered quietly to me.

"Guide?" I gasped. My father pulled up beside us on his horse; he had the decency to look ashamed. "Papa, what are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"Your father is showing us the way to the beast's lair!" Gaston announced. Without a word to me, Papa took the lead and our party of ten men, one monster, and me took off into the forest.

"Let me go," I said, struggling against Gaston's grip.

"Oh no, Belle," he said, running his lips over my earlobe until I shivered in disgust. "You're coming with us. I want you to watch while I rip that monster's heart out."

"I wasn't trying to avoid going," I snarled. "I just wanted to take a swing at my father." Gaston let out a roar of laughter and pulled his arm tighter around my waist.

How could Papa do this to me? Was he still under the delusion that I would marry Gaston after he killed Beast? I wouldn't marry Gaston even if I did somehow come out of tonight alive. I wasn't naïve enough to think that Gaston was going to kill Beast and leave me to tell the tale unscathed.

My heart raced and my head ached as we sprinted through the forest. I had never made the trip at this pace, so I wasn't sure how long it would take us to reach the mansion. I was having a hard time focusing on anything; I was having a hard time getting the image of Beast – clearly brokenhearted – out of the front of my mind.

I tried to calm myself down by rationally thinking about what would happen. Beast was strong.

Was he strong enough to take on fifteen men with guns and knives? My breathing began to quicken. Obviously that wasn't what I should be thinking about, but I knew that I had to rationalize it.

Gaston fought – killed – with ferocity unlike anyone I had ever seen. Beast wouldn't fight with the same vigor, the same desire to kill; would that put him at a disadvantage?

I hung my head in desperation. All of this was my fault. If I had never gone back with Papa, this would have never happened. I would be with Beast right now, and….

I had just been able to admit that I had feelings for Beast, and now it was all for nothing. I had never told him how I felt; honestly, I had never thought about just how much I cared for him. It had frightened me before, and now I would never have the chance. I fought back the tears threatening to escape.

Crying would do nothing. I had to stay focused and do everything in my power to keep Beast from dying. Maybe when Beast spoke and acted properly, like a man, the others would see that he was no danger.

As we rushed our way back to my home, I willed myself to rationalize and think of a way out of this. Every path my mind took me down, however, led me to a brick wall. I couldn't imagine tonight with a happy ending.

Full of despair, I tried to calm my mind by just imagining seeing Beast one last time before our lives were over. One way or another, after tonight I would not have to live without Beast.

* * *

My heart hammered in my chest when the gate surrounding the mansion floated into my vision. Within moments, we were all gathered around the front steps of my home.

"A beast lives here?" someone asked incredulously.

"He's obviously fooled himself into thinking that he is domesticated," Gaston said haughtily.

I tried to scoff, to feel outraged at Gaston's remarks, but my stomach was churning and threatening to make me sick.

"All right, men," Gaston said in a whispered voice. "We don't know what else might be in here, so we have to take them by surprise. We'll get the front door open, and then we storm the place." Gaston slid off of the horse and pulled me after him. "You stay with me," he added in an undertone. The rest of the men dismounted and inched their way towards the front door. I glared at Papa as Gaston and I moved to the front of the pack; Gaston let go of my arm momentarily to pull his gun from where it was slung around his chest. Replacing his grip, he dragged me to the front door and tested it; it was unlocked.

"Be ready, men," he said in a clear voice. He paused for a moment, his fingers twitching slightly over the knob; suddenly he threw the doors open with a bang and leapt inside, gun at the ready.

He spun around quickly, seeming surprised that the foyer was dark and empty.

"Hello?" a familiar voice called from the top of the stairs. Gaston reacted immediately, pointing his gun at the figure of Cogsworth descending the stairs. The portly man's arms shot up and he trembled slightly.

"Ca – can I help you, monsieur?" he asked, not daring to move. I saw his face fall and his arms drop slightly when he saw me. "Belle?" he gasped incredulously.

"Is that supposed to be the beast?" a man asked from behind me, unimpressed. I widened my eyes and shook my head slightly at Cogsworth, hoping he would catch on. To my relief, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Beast?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard the man correctly.

"Don't play games!" Gaston barked. "Where is the damn beast?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, monsieur," Cogsworth replied, daring to take a few steps down the stairs.

The chatting had attracted more members of the household. Lumiere and Babette creeped out of the den with mussed hair and wrinkled clothing. Gaston switched his aim between the three of him; I could see a seed of confusion on his face.

"Where is he?" he asked, grinding his teeth.

"Are you feeling all right, monsieur?" Babette asked with sultry concern. She swept towards him, sashaying her hips. "I can assure you that there is no beast here. Maybe you should lie down?"

I almost laughed as Gaston turned purple with rage. It made sense that at some point during the past few years, the mansion would have had visitors, and everyone would have had to pretend that Beast didn't exist.

"What on earth is going on in here?" came Mrs. Potts' disapproving voice. She wrapped a robe around her nightgown-clad torso and glared sternly at all of us; her face fell when she saw me. "Belle dear," she breathed. "How good to see you again! And you've brought guests." She pursed her lips at Gaston.

"Gaston," said a man behind us; the village baker stepped forward, glaring at him. "Are you sure that you have not been tricked?"

"We all saw what was in the mirror!" cried a man beside the baker; he was a close companion of Gaston's named LeFou.

"It could have been some sort of hoax," said another man.

"Silence!" Gaston shouted, glaring at the men. "We will solve this without bickering. Split up and search the house. The monster is here, and we _will_ find him."

The men separated; Gaston pulled me along with him and searched the ballroom and the outside balcony. My heart tightened as I thought of the moment Beast and I had shared; such happy thoughts seemed a lifetime away.

I thought quickly of the layout of the mansion. There were places Beast could hide, doors he could lock. I was confident that the other men wouldn't search as thoroughly as Gaston, so I was thankful that he hadn't gone upstairs.

The mansion was large, but it there were a lot of men. It wasn't very long before everyone was gathered again in the foyer.

"We found nothing," LeFou said with a frown. Gaston glared at him, his teeth clenched.

"None of you found anything?"

"No," the baker said indignantly. "Gaston, we followed you because we respect you, no matter how far-fetched your tale seemed. However, I am forced to believe that this has all been a ruse! There is no beast here!"

"But – but there was a beast!" my father cried, stepping into the foyer. "I know there was!"

"How much did you have to drink before you saw him?" the blacksmith cackled; Papa flushed. Gaston clenched his teeth with fury before slinging his gun towards Lumiere, who stood silently with the rest of the house.

"I'll give you one last chance to tell me where he is!"

"Gaston!" the baker exclaimed. "These are innocent people. Stop pointing your gun at them!" Gaston let the barrel drop, but his eyes still danced with anger.

"This is madness!" another man shouted.

"Leave then!" he roared to the other men. He stared after them in silence as they all made their way from the mansion, laughing amongst themselves. For a moment, my heart fluttered with hope – was it all over? My eyes flashed to the top of the stairs; I was sure that Beast must be up there.

I realized my mistake when Gaston yanked me towards him. He must have seen my gaze; I could see the wheels in his head turning, putting it all together.

"Why don't you and I go check upstairs?" he said with an evil grin.

"Gaston, just stop!" I shouted, trying to dig my heels into the floor. "We – we made the beast up! Honestly, I can't believe you fell for it!" Fueled by rage, Gaston spun and pulled me towards him; I yelped in fear.

"Everyone can say what they want," he breathed dangerously. "But I know there is a beast here, and I know that you have feelings for him. You're an open book, Belle. He's here, and I am going to make you watch while I kill him."

"Monsieur, you must be mistaken. Perhaps –" Lumiere's voice faltered when Gaston pointed the gun at him.

"Stop this right now!" Mrs. Potts said in outrage. "You can't just break into another person's house and threaten them! Did your parents teach you no manners?"

Gaston ignored her but lowered his gun.

"Come out, beast!" he shouted, moving towards the middle of the foyer. "Come out and fight me! I know you're here!"

"Really now, monsieur," Cogsworth began, but Gaston cut him off by turning the gun towards me. My heart skipped a beat.

"I am going to scour this house and find that beast," Gaston said loudly, looking at everyone in turn. "If any of you follow me, try to stop me, or hide the beast from me, I will shoot her." Everyone fell silent as Gaston pressed his gun into the small of my back, pushing me towards the stairs.

"No, stay here," I heard Mrs. Potts say to someone who had clearly tried to follow us.

"Gaston, please," I said desperately. "There is no beast. We – we just made him up!"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Gaston spat acidly. When we reached the mass of hallways, Gaston looked around uncertainly.

"Come out, beast!" he shouted. "I've got Belle, and if you don't come out, I'll kill her!" My eyes widened in horror.

"No!" I screamed. "Beast, don't –" Gaston wrapped his arm around my waist and over my mouth in one swift movement. I struggled, but he only tightened his grip. Beast couldn't come out now, he just couldn't.

"Come out _now_, beast!" Gaston jeered. "Come out so I can kill you and Belle and I can be married in peace!" Gaston pulled me down a wide hall, looking all around as he called for Beast. After opening several empty rooms, Gaston pushed me in front of him and glared at me. "Where is he?" he asked through clenched teeth. I didn't respond; Gaston slapped me hard across the face.

"He's not here!" I cried as I bent over and clutched my face that was swollen from Gaston's abuse. "He isn't here, for God's sake! Just leave!" Gaston grabbed my arm and pulled me so that I was facing him.

"I know he's here!" he shouted, his face turning red. "Where is he?" My stomach churned when a voice responded behind us.

"I'm right here! Now get your filthy hands off of her!"


	20. Chapter 20 - The End

_"I'm right here! Now get your filthy hands off of her!"_

"Beast," I breathed; my voice was a mix of relief and despair. He was here! I was with him again! But he couldn't be here; Gaston was going to kill him!

Gaston spun around, an evil grin spreading across his face.

"Final- oh my God! What are you?" he asked, taking in Beast's appearance in person for the first time. Beast stood, hunched over like an animal about to pounce. His teeth were bared as he snarled at Gaston; his eyes danced with rage. I had never seen him look so primal, so…_beastly_.

He lunged at Gaston, who didn't have enough time to properly raise his gun. The two of them fell onto the floor in a heap. Beast struggled to tear the gun from Gaston's grip, but Gaston used one of his hands to punch Beast hard in the face; Beast let out a roar and lost his hold on the gun. Gaston used the opportunity to kick Beast off of him and stand up.

Gaston's face was white and he shook slightly as he aimed the gun at Beast. Clearly he hadn't expected such an adversary in Beast. Adrenaline pumping, I launched myself onto Gaston's back and slung my arms around his neck, hoping to choke him. He let out a strangled gagging noise as he lost his balance and fell backwards; he landed on me hard and I yelped. Beast had recovered by now; he grabbed Gaston by his collar and pulled him off of me and to his feet.

"Fight me like a man!" Beast roared in his face. Gaston steadied himself and glared at Beast, hands twitching.

"You're not a man!" Gaston spat. "You're an animal – a filthy animal!" The two men began to circle each other slowly, both looking for an opening as Gaston continued to taunt Beast. "It's a little pathetic, you know. You looked so _heartbroken_ when Belle showed you to me in the mirror. Did you actually think that Belle loved you? You! How could she want an animal, especially when she has me?"

Despite Gaston's mockery, I thought I saw a glint of anxiety in his eyes. It made sense; Gaston had expected to come here with a group of men. He had planned to outnumber Beast. With more men, the fight would have been over instantly. Now, though, Gaston was facing Beast one-on-one; Beast had size and strength on his side, and while Gaston was used to hunting animals, he was not used to hunting something that could walk upright and think as he could.

"Don't listen to him, Beast!" I urged, wringing my hands. Gaston's gun on the floor caught my eye. I inched towards it, hoping to end this. When I reached down to pick it up, though, Gaston made his move; he must have known I would interfere. Instead of charging at Beast, Gaston spun around towards me. He swooped in and grabbed both the gun and me. He wrapped an arm around my neck, nearly lifting me off the floor. His other hand held the gun, a finger resting on the trigger.

I realized, then, that Gaston was a very skilled hunter; he had adapted to his advanced prey. I should never have interfered – I had played right into his plan.

"I'm going to make this very simple, beast," Gaston said slowly. "You can either surrender to me and let me kill you…or I can kill Belle. Make your choice!"

"Beast, please," I begged. "Just go." Beast's fury seemed to melt away to despair. My heart sank; I knew he would never leave. He held his arms up in a gesture of submission.

"Kill me," he said simply; I let out a choked sob. "But please, let Belle go in peace."

"I'll see how I feel," Gaston said with a sneer. He pushed me hard onto the ground and used his now free hand to fully aim the gun at Beast. "After I kill you."

I struggled to get up but knew I wouldn't make it in time. I couldn't beat Gaston's reflexes or the bullet that was about to fly from his gun.

"Gaston, wait!" shouted a new voice from the staircase. Taken aback, we all turned to see my father running towards Gaston.

"I appreciate the gesture, Maurice," Gaston said, "but I have this under control."

"You can't do this!" Papa shouted. "I won't let you."

"Try and stop me," Gaston sneered. Papa jumped forward and grabbed the gun. The two men struggled over the gun for a moment, and then it happened.

I don't know if the gun went off accidentally or if Gaston intentionally pulled the trigger; all I know is that a gunshot thundered through the hall. I screamed as a red spot spread over Papa's shirt.

"Papa!" I shouted, running to him. Gaston's eyes widened, but even the shooting of my father didn't seem to shake him; he was trying to reload the gun when Beast attacked him with a thundering roar.

I turned my attention quickly to Papa, who didn't seem to see me even though he was staring directly at me.

"Papa?" I whispered, tears beginning to escape from my eyes.

"Finally," he breathed, his face turning into a small smile. A final breath escaped his mouth and he slumped backwards. I jumped up, unable to waste any time. It took me a moment to process the scene behind me; my mind refused to clear. Finally, I snapped to my senses and saw Beast fighting with Gaston.

Gaston struggled as Beast attempted to close his paws around his throat, but Gaston did not have the size or primal strength that Beast did. After only a moment, Beast sneered in triumph as he tightened his grip around Gaston's neck.

I tried to tell Beast to stop, to not kill Gaston, but my voice caught in my throat. After all, I considered for a second, didn't Gaston deserve to die?

Beast's sneer fell away as he seemed to realize himself. He loosened his hold on Gaston's neck; Gaston sucked in a huge gulp of air and coughed loudly. Beast reached over and retrieved the gun; with one move, he bent the gun's barrel, rendering it useless. He stood up and pulled Gaston up with him. Holding him by the shirt, he put his face in his.

"I should flay you within an inch of your life," Beast snarled; Gaston's eyes widened in nearly tangible fear. "I should make you suffer and then send you to the depths of hell for everything you have done to her. It's what you deserve. I am a better person than you, though – than you will ever be." Gaston tried to protest with an acidic remark, but Beast shook him and he shut his mouth.

"Get – out." he said in a low rumble. "Get out and never come back." He half-pushed, half-threw Gaston towards the staircase and then turned towards me, chest heaving.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment; all of the words we had left unspoken seemed to hover between us, separating us. Then a tear fell down my face and I made a strange gurgling noise.

"Beast," I breathed, throwing myself at him. His huge limbs caught me in a tight, warm embrace. Suddenly, I felt whole again; I released a breath I hadn't known I had been holding as I returned to my home in his arms. I sank into him, allowing him to completely surround me.

"You came back," he said, stroking my hair.

"Of course I did. I thought – I – do you want me back?"

"Of course," he mimicked. I allowed myself a small smile.

"Belle, I – agh!" Beast let out a heart wrenching, pained roar and twisted away from me. I pulled away in horror to see Gaston standing there with a triumphant smirk. My eyes flashed towards the hilt of the hunting knife that was lodged in Beast's side. My stomach fell and I screamed; how could I have been stupid enough to think that Gaston would only bring a gun to kill Beast? I had been an idiot!

Gaston yanked the knife out; Beast whined in pain and a spurt of blood shot from the wound. He planted the knife in Beast's back this time; Beast fell to his knees on the floor.

When Gaston pulled the knife out again, I delivered a kick between his legs with as much force as I could muster. Gaston shouted and bent forward, clutching his crotch. I grabbed at the knife, slippery with blood, and managed to steal it from his weakened grip.

With a guttural cry, I slipped the blade across Gaston's throat. With a hiss, air and blood seeped from the cut. Gaston's head whipped up and he stared at me with eyes full of fury and pain. I stepped back, trying to avoid the blood, though my dress had already been stained with it.

I kept waiting to feel sick, but I could only feel relief and pride; I had ended the man who had tormented me for so long – the man who was taking Beast from me. Not bothering to watch as Gaston quickly died, I turned to Beast who had fallen back onto the floor.

I nearly became hysteric when I saw the blood that had pooled around him. How was it possible for him to bleed that much? His breathing was labored and his eyes were shut. I knelt beside him and gently touched his face.

"Oh Beast," I said, losing myself to my tears. He opened his eyes and weakly wiped a tear from my cheek.

"Shh," he breathed. "Don't – cry."

"I just got you back," I moaned.

"Maybe – it's better – like – this," he said, closing his eyes again. His breathing slowed.

"Mrs. Potts!" I screamed. Someone had to come – someone had to help me. When she hurried up the steps, I shouted again. "Get a doctor! Help me, I don't – I don't know what to do!"

"Belle, dear, maybe you should come with me," Mrs. Potts whispered soothingly, touching my shoulders. I shook her off with a strangled scream.

"I – I can't leave him!" I shouted.

"Belle," Beast whispered. "Calm – calm down. I – got to see – you – one last – time."

When Beast had fallen into the lake, I was able to compose myself long enough to save him. Now, though, as he lay on the floor bleeding out, I saw no hope, no chance to save him. I lost all sense of rationality as my emotions took over.

"Please Beast!" I exclaimed, sobbing onto his chest. "You – you can't leave me!" Beast gave me a small smile before his head fell backward. I collapsed onto his chest, where I could barely hear his heart beating.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm sorry I left you. I should never have left you!"

"Shh…." Beast could barely make a sound.

This was all my fault. All my fault.

Why had I left?

Now I would never have a life with Beast. Now my life was over.

Why hadn't I been able to tell him how I felt before now? Why couldn't I accept just how much I felt for him?

It seemed so glaringly obvious now; I wondered how long I had been in love with Beast. Maybe it was the day we shared in the snow; maybe I had fallen in love with him when I pulled him from the lake, or maybe at Christmas. Though it hardly mattered now, I had to tell him.

"I am so sorry." I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face. "I love you," I said, releasing the three words that I had kept inside of me for so long in a strong voice; I was surprised at how clear my voice sounded, and at how good it felt to say those words.

"I love you."

There was a flash of white light from Beast's chest; he let out a groan. Startled, I leaned away from him.

"What…" I trailed off as Beast began to writhe on the ground. His features started to melt and blend; his fur seemed to be receding into his skin. His massive body shrank and faded until there was no Beast – instead, a handsome brunette man lay in his place. The knife from his side clattered to the ground, and this man had no blood seeping from him. He groaned, clutching his head, and sat up slowly. When he opened his eyes, I was shocked to see that they were a vivid, electric blue – they were Beast's eyes. He seemed confused for a moment; he put his hands in front of his face and felt his chest. Then, a smile broke out on his face. He clutched my hands in his, beaming.

"Belle," the man breathed. His voice wasn't the deep roar Beast's had been, but I could hear the similar tones. He let out a heartwarming laugh, and I knew then who he was.

"Either I'm dead," the man continued. "Or you just broke my curse."

* * *

Looking back, I am slightly ashamed at how long it took for me to put together all of the pieces and figure out what I had done to break his curse. To be fair, my brain was fairly addled as we settled the events of that night.

I stared at the man – Beast, I supposed – in silence. Mrs. Potts, however, knew immediately that this was the man from so long ago. As I watched, my eyes rushing and moving to take in every inch of him, Mrs. Potts swooped in, tears streaming down her face. She took the man up in her arms, squeezing him and crying into his shirt. With a broad grin, he completed the embrace.

"Oh, Mrs. Potts!" he exclaimed. It was only a moment before everyone else had rushed up the stairs. The man hugged Lumiere, Cogsworth, Bouche, and Babette over and over while I stood slightly to the side; my head spun slightly as I took in the scene before me.

A part of me felt like I was trespassing; everyone else had known the man for years. They had been there when the curse had been enacted; I had only come along once it was almost over.

I stared at the man. He wasn't as tall as Beast had been, although he was still several inches taller than me. He was slender, but I could see the muscles under his now too-large clothing. His brown hair hung around his shoulders, moving gently as he moved to embrace everyone. …and his eyes! Even though they weren't looking at me, I could feel the energy pulsing from his vivid blue eyes.

"Oh, Lumiere," Mrs. Potts began with a frown. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded. "Come on, dears; let's go down to the kitchen." She turned to the stairs, under the impression that others would follow. I watched as Lumiere retreated to a nearby room and came back with a large bundle of sheets. After a whispered word to Bouche and Cogsworth, the men began to cover Papa and Gaston's bodies with the sheets.

"Belle, you shouldn't watch," a soft voice called; I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun to see the man staring at me, concern darkening his perfect blue eyes – Beast's eyes. Those eyes moved over my face and the man frowned. "He hurt you," he said; I could detect a growl in his voice, but it was light.

"Well," I said, giggling awkwardly as I tried to clear my head. "I think I got off easy; he stabbed you." The man smiled _Beast's_ smile, his blue eyes dancing.

"At least let me look at your injuries," he said; I allowed him to lead me to the stairs.

"I am fine," I said with a small smile. "Well, I'm physically fine. I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around _you_, though."

"Belle, if you don't let me make sure you are physically all right, I will – what was it? – bludgeon you in the head and do it while you are unconscious?" He grinned at me, and I couldn't help but smile shyly back.

"Fine," I allowed as we walked into the den. He guided me gently into the large armchair and then knelt on the ground in front of me. His face turned serious as he examined my twisted wrist. The skin was swollen and purple; I saw him purse his lips and couldn't help but giggle at his serious expression. Even as anger at Gaston clouded his face, I had to admit - he was _handsome_.

"I don't think it's broken," he said. "Just – badly hurt." I saw him clench his teeth and put my hand over his.

"I am okay," I said gently. He didn't answer, but continued his examination. His eyes moved up to my face, where my skin was bruised and swollen. He moved his hand to gently wipe away blood from under my busted lip. I shuddered slightly; it was strange to feel skin instead of fur. His hand tenderly cupped my cheek; I moved my own hand over his.

"It's really you," I breathed, my mind finally coming to a rest after reeling for so long.

Somehow, _somehow_, we had survived the evening. It was Gaston, not Beast or I, who had met his end tonight. Beast and I had endured; we were together against all the odds.

Everything from the past month washed over me; the anxiety from this evening crashed down and I began to sob noisily. Beast readily wiped the tears that fell from my eyes.

"Don't cry, Belle," he murmured soothingly. "Everything is all right now."

"I almost lost you!" I wailed. "I am so sorry."

"Shh," he cooed. I sniffed, trying to compose myself. He smiled at me, wiping away the last of my tears.

"Lose me?" he asked. "I will never let that happen. I'm not going anywhere." He sat up as tall as he could on his knees; our eyes met and I could feel myself pouring into him. I leaned towards him.

"Does your lip hurt?" he whispered.

"No," I answered, closing my eyes.

"Good," he replied just before our lips met. His kiss was gentle and more exquisite than I could ever have imagined. I melted into him, completely giving myself up; at the same time, I could feel him surrendering himself to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and stood up, taking me with him. I draped my arms around his neck as he deepened our kiss. After a moment, we pulled apart; he immediately kissed the corner of my mouth, my cheek, my eyelids.

"Belle, I give you my word that no one will ever hurt you again. I love you," he said, pulling me closer towards him.

"Oh, I love you," I replied, resting my head in the crook of his neck. We held each other until we heard Mrs. Potts calling for us; as we made our way to the kitchen with clasped hands and shy grins, I knew that I was home.

* * *

Beast tightened his grip on my shoulders.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked quietly in my ear. I nodded, steeling myself as I looked at the fresh mound of dirt that held my father.

Mrs. Potts and Bouche had whipped up food and we celebrated all night long. Lumiere and Cogsworth rejoined us soon, having taken the bodies out of the house. At one point, Mrs. Potts turned to me, her eyes full of concern and curiosity.

"Belle, dear – now feel free not to oblige – I was wondering if you could tell us what exactly happened tonight." I nodded at once; they all deserved to know, after all.

I briefly skimmed over my life with Papa – I did not want Beast to know how I had become. I _did_ tell them that Papa saw me looking in the mirror.

"You looked at me?" Beast breathed. With a slight blush, I nodded.

I told of my father bringing Gaston home and revealing to him about the mansion and Beast. I left out all of the abuse – it was written clearly on my body.

"He gathered men up and convinced them that Beast would come and kill them to get me back. And then – well, then we were here, and you know what happened after that." There was silence for a moment before Mrs. Potts spoke again.

"Well, at least everything turned out all right." I smiled, and we continued our celebration.

The first rays of light were just shining over the treetops as I looked at my father's grave. I did not know where they had buried Gaston; I would never ask.

I looked at the ground, trying very hard to feel sorry for my father's death, but it evaded me. After all, it was his death that had secured my place with Beast; I knew in my heart, too, that Papa had wanted to die. His last word had told me all I needed to know.

As selfish as it was, I was happy to finally be free.

"I think we should all get some rest," Mrs. Potts suggested lightly. It was my turn to tense up against Beast; I did not want to leave his side.

"I'm not tired," I insisted with a smile. Mrs. Potts pursed her lips.

"How about a nice, relaxing bath then?" she urged. I sent an imploring glance at Beast, who laughed. "A few moments apart will not kill you," she insisted.

When I was up to my neck in warm water, I was glad I had listened to Mrs. Potts.

"I'm taking your dress to be washed, dear," she called; I couldn't even respond for the relaxing water that rushed over me. Soon, though, I began to miss Beast and hurried to wash myself and get dressed. As I plaited my wet hair, it hit me.

I rushed from my room, desperate to find Beast. I ran to where he waited in the den; his damp hair and now correctly-sized clothing told me he had partaken in a bath as well.

"I had to love you," I blurted; he grinned slyly. "Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.

"If I had told you that to break my curse you had to love me, you would have reacted in one of two ways. You either would have tried to love me out of pity or you would have been frightened off by my blunt words. Either way, it wouldn't have worked. You had to love me because you loved me, not because you felt obligated to."

"Well, I do love you," I said with a smile, pleased that I had finally figured out what I had done to break the curse.

"Will you come outside with me?" Beast asked, taking my hand in his. I nodded, though I was surprised when he led me to the ballroom instead of the front door. Soon, we were seated once again on the balcony that wrapped around the outside of the ballroom. The sunrise had painted the sky brilliant, vibrant colors; it was, in its own way, just as beautiful as the last night we had sat out here together.

"Mrs. Potts took your dirty dress yesterday," Beast began, reaching into his pocket, "and she found this." He held his palm out to me and I gasped.

"My – uh, well, your mother's necklace!" I exclaimed. Beast chuckled; my heart skipped a beat at the sound.

"It is yours, darling. I found another chain for it, since the locket itself was not damaged." He turned me slightly to clasp the necklace himself. "I must say, it is hard getting used to human limbs again." We both laughed as he flexed his hands. "But they are _much_ more convenient." I turned so I was once again facing him and we smiled at each other. "I am so happy that you are back," he said gently, squeezing my hand.

"You know, we never finished our conversation that night," he continued. "I was going to ask you something – it's a bit more plausible, now, so I wonder if I might try again?" I nodded, breathlessly, as Beast slid off of his seat and landed neatly on one knee.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Something that I have wanted to do for some time now. Belle, when you came here I was horrible – inside and out. Somehow, though, you changed me. You gave me hope when I had lost all meaning of the word. You loved me for who I became inside, despite the fact that I was a monster. I owe you my life – in more ways than one. Nothing would make me happier than to have you by my side, as my equal, for the rest of my life. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

He pulled a ring from his other pocket that had clearly been made to match the locket I was wearing. It was silver with a large sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. My breath caught in my throat and tears of joy fell from my eyes.

I had never thought that I would ever truly be able to marry someone simply because I loved them, but I was. I had found my home here with Beast – my soon-to-be husband.

"Of course I will marry you," I finally managed to say. He slid the ring onto my finger and pulled me in for another kiss; in that moment, I knew what true happiness was.

* * *

That evening, after we had both slept – our schedules off slightly from the events of the previous night – we left for the neighboring town. Mrs. Potts had thrown a slight fit when we told her that we did _not_ want a fussy, lavish wedding, but she had finally given in. Beast and I went alone to a chapel in the night, where a very short, squat priest pronounced us husband and wife.

We were met with cheers and champagne when we returned home.

"Maybe Lumiere will get an idea from the master," Babette said coyly as she gave me a tight hug. It was very early in the morning when, my heart hammering in my chest, we made our way upstairs to become husband and wife in every sense.

That morning, as I lay bed watching Beast sleep, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at my amazing luck. Somehow, everything had worked out perfectly. Somehow, I was married to my best friend – the love of my life. I snuggled into him and closed my eyes. However it had all happened, I wasn't going to complain.

* * *

"Let's go," he said suddenly one morning at breakfast.

"Go where?" My brow furrowed in confusion.

"Anywhere. Does it matter? You said you wanted to travel someday." I let out a giggle.

"I did say that," I agreed. "But we can't just leave."

"Why can't we?" he challenged. I took a bite of a croissant, hiding the fact that I couldn't think of a reason. He grinned smugly at me. "Come on," he groaned. "Let's go." A small smile crept onto my lips as I imagined it.

"Okay," I conceded softly. My husband beamed at me, still managing to make my heart flutter.

The next day, we began to pack. We decided to spend some time in Paris, as neither of us had ever been, before sailing to wherever we decided to go. Mrs. Potts had been slightly saddened by our announcement, but we assured her that we would be back.

"How could we not come back?" Beast had asked with a grin, pulling her into a hug. "After all, this is home."

"What can I call you?" I asked curiously as we packed.

"Whatever do you mean?" Beast replied.

"I can't keep calling you Beast," I said with a grin.

"Oh," he said, sitting on the bed with a frown. "I would rather not use my given name. That's not who I am anymore."

"How about René?" I asked, smiling. He let out a roar of laughter.

"René – reborn. I like it." We had a kiss to celebrate.

-Three months later-

The salty sea air tossed my raven hair. I tightened my grip on René's hand as we looked over the edge of the ship. The sunset was casting beautiful colors over the surface of the water. I snuggled into his chest, breathing in his clean scent.

"I hope I'm not sick again," I muttered. René laughed.

My excitement at finally having my own adventure had been marred slightly when I became seasick an hour after we embarked upon the ship. Still, though, as I stood arm in arm with René watching the seagulls dip and dive above the water, I couldn't help but feel thrilled. After years of dreaming and reading of adventures in books, I was finally going on my own.

"Are you _sure_ you're not with child?" René asked with concern. It was my turn to laugh.

"I am sure," I told him. While I knew that we would both be blissfully happy the day our family expanded, for now I wanted time with him – alone. When we had children, we would raise them with love and understanding. A girl would be taught to think for herself and chase her dreams; a boy would learn to treat women with respect, as equals.

"Thank you," René whispered in my ear.

"For what?"

"Saving me."

I didn't answer but stared at the sun fading away over the horizon. With the falling of the sun, I closed one chapter of my life's story. As I prepared to begin the next chapter with René by my side, I knew that he was wrong. I hadn't saved him.

We had saved each other.

* * *

**Author's note:** PLEASE READ! (: I didn't put a note at the beginning like I usually do; I didn't want to interfere with the final chapter. If you never read another author's note again, please read this one!  
I want to thank everyone who has read this story from the bottom of my heart! Whether you are someone who read months ago when I first published or you just found this story yesterday, THANK YOU. Thank you so much for sharing this experience with me. This is the first story I have ever seen to fruition, and I am so happy with how it turned out.  
To my Betas: I love you. Thanks for keeping me sane!  
To everyone: Please, please, PLEASE! When you are done reading this, please review this story. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a feedback whore; every review makes my day. Whether it's one word, one line, or an essay, please let me know what you thought of the story overall. Only with criticism can we grow as writers!  
I am currently working on my other fic, 'Dying Magic.' If you want to read more of my work, watch for updates on it soon!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you! I hope it has been as great of an experience for you as it has been for me.

Love,

jonnilyne (:


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